


Pretty Boy

by Aegrota



Category: Gackt (Musician) RPF
Genre: Androgyny, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Genderfluid Character, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Young Gackt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-01-16 18:17:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 25,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18526981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aegrota/pseuds/Aegrota
Summary: Burned out Gackt makes an out-of-character decision, finding himself traveling with a strange girl. As their trip comes to an end, who will reach their destination?





	1. Chrome

**Author's Note:**

> Ooookay, so I was three-days-ago-years-old when I realized I somehow (???) managed to not listen to Gackt through my J-rock phase. So the fangirling hit me now, about 12 years later.  
> That's why in this story, he's about 30, so it's like, what... 2003? I will try not to make time-related mistakes, though I cannot promise to perfectly depict Gackt, ya know the drill, real person, we don't know him, yeda-yeda.  
> This will contain smut because that's what I like writing, sorrynotsorry.  
> Hope you enjoy, I don't know how long this will be :D

It had been a tough year. Tough several years, he thought.  
Sleep became a luxury and there always seemed to be a cackle of people around him, yelling, screaming, laughing, talking until they all became a blur and he could only hear the cacophony.  
That is when the arguments began. Every sound was grinding on his nerves and as migraines started, his eyesight worsened until there was only drumming in his head and he was blind.  
He didn’t know who was talking to him but he wanted them gone.  
He would try to drown the noise in alcohol but it only made the headaches worse and the vomiting seemed to spill from one day to the next until he mistakenly thought it was still March in May.  
  
He stepped aside but it didn’t help. Used to constantly working, he blamed everything on people, on the concert, on the tour, on the song; instead of realizing he was going too fast.  
So he broke. He broke apart like glass, he would reflect later.  
He was in part grateful he couldn’t remember the details of his breakdown.  
It was probably for the best, once he realized he probably did something atrocious, only heavens know what saved him from a lawsuit. Assault probably, but his team somehow swept it under the rug.  
  
Vacation. At first, he thought he didn’t need it. But his manager threatened to inform his family and he knew he couldn’t stand his mother worrying. It was embarrassing really, such a low blow to blackmail him like that but as he woke up without the alarm for the first time in what seemed like forever, all he could feel was silence. And it was the best he’d felt in as long as he could remember.

Vacation. He started thinking about how he should spend it.  
He had an entire month, which seemed like an eternity, with the usual schedule he was used to.  
He surfed online, trying to find a place to go to until he stumbled upon a curious blog that belonged to a man who’d spent the past several years backpacking across the world.  
It was terrifying, he thought. Backpacking? No luxurious hotels, no car, no guides. Just the backpack and the thumb up, hitchhiking and sleeping in cheap motels or couch surfing the entire time.  
  
Yet he couldn’t stop reading the blog and looking at the photos the owner posted. So many places that didn’t seem like they would be included in many organized tours but they seemed so charming and raw.  
Before he had the time to even think about it, he had booked a ticket to go to Europe.  
He never visited Hungary anyway. Well, now was his chance. Was that the country with all the spicy food? Or was that Poland? Embarrassingly, he realized he knew next to nothing about Europe.  
His meticulous Google searches that ate up hours upon hours only seemed to confuse him further.  
  
It was highly out of character, but he thought he’d wing it. Europe had embassies. It had payphones and public transportation. He could always find his way back. But he yearned to wander around, no specific purpose, no appointments, no limits, no fans, and no expectations.  
Just the open vastness of adventure and him.  
  
  
  
The airport was just like any other he’d been to. The languages he’d heard around himself were the only thing telling him he was no longer in Japan and it already felt better. He caught himself looking over his shoulder a few times but nobody seemed to pay him any mind. Nobody knew him.  
Had anyone ever told him he’d feel relieved to be a nobody, Gackt would have scoffed and asked them why the hell he’d worked so hard if he didn’t want to be recognized and adored.  
But with the state he was in, it just felt good. Maybe he should leave that train of thought for another day.  
His luggage all fit in the carry-on backpack he had. He was as surprised as he would be if somebody else packed for him. He’d left all the Dolce and Gabbana, all the Gucci, all the Versace at home.  
He bought nameless clothes to go with his nameless face this month.  
Nobody had to know, this was just for him.  
  
So he found himself in the suburbs, the map he’d bought his only companion. Why wouldn’t he go out of town? He considered sightseeing in Budapest but it was so noisy. Tourist season, he figured. It was the end of May and people flocked from all over like flies.  
No more noise, no more talking. He just wanted to go. Anywhere.  
  
He’d never hitchhiked before. But there’s a first time for everything. The breeze was pleasant and the road was vast, far from the highway, empty as far as the eye could see. The wind in his hair and the quiet almost put him in a trance when he saw a motorcycle just above his outstretched thumb.  
He recognized the sound. This was a good one. Black and chrome and the loud roar that made his heart ache. It was customized and expensive, but sturdy and reliable. He wanted it.  
  
The bike stopped and the rider turned their head towards him, not lifting the visor. They wore a leather jacket and pants, their boots chunky and dusty. They seemed petite but he assumed anyone would, on that monster of a bike.  
  
“Heya. Wanna ride?”  
  
The voice was raspy like the owner had recently lost it due to a lot of strain or illness. But it was cheerful and the accent was heavy, yet charming.  
  
“Do you speak English?”  The biker inquired and he realized he’d been spacing out.  
“Yes. Sure. Where are you headed?”  
The rider laughed and it was a strained, yet a charming sound. It sounded so free:  
“No idea. I’m just wingin’ it. First time in Hungary, just wanna ride about and see stuff. So?”  
  
He sat on the bike behind the rider and they nodded behind the helmet:  
  
“Sorry I ain’t got a helmet for ya, pretty boy. Hold on tight!”  
  
And they were off. The wind was magnificent and the noise was a soothing one for once. There was just the bike, the road, the sun beyond his sunglasses and the smell of leather from the rider.  
They rode past gas stations and motels and warehouses and he soon lost track of time, realizing the sun was going down only as the rider stopped the bike in front of a rundown motel with a diner on the ground floor.  
  
“Well, I don’t feel like riding during the night tonight, so I’mma stop here. What do ya say?”  
  
He climbed off the bike, stretching his legs and fixing his hair which was probably beyond disheveled at this point. The rider laughed their broken laugh again, finally removing their helmet as they dismounted.  
Gackt was surprised. Behind the helmet and the heavy voice, there was a small face of a girl.  
She had big green eyes and a fuzzy tuft of short crimson hair, her cheeks flushed and her pout lips in desperate need of a chapstick, he noticed. But her teeth were pearly white as she grinned:  
  
“Ya look even cuter now that I can see ya, pretty boy.”  
  
She ran her fingers through her helmet hair, returning some of the volume to her layered bangs before she unzipped her leather jacket, revealing a tight tank top underneath.  
She put her riding gloves in the bag on the side of the bike carelessly as she motioned for him to follow:  
  
“C’mon, I’m starving and this place looks like it has donuts!”  
  
He had no choice but to follow her enthusiastic step and as the jet lag slowly started to catch up with him, he wondered what their coffee was like.  
Also, donuts? Carbs, and at this hour? He eyed the girl, but she was as skinny as a gymnast. He clicked his tongue. Lucky. She will probably gain weight in a few years.  
  
The diner looked like the classical ones in America, black and white tiles on the floor, red pleather furniture, chrome accents. And the smell of coffee hitting his nostrils as soon as he entered. His stomach growled. He was too tired to adjust for time difference to calculate when he had his last meal.  
  
The biker girl happily plopped into the booth in the corner, sighing loudly. He elegantly slid across her, taking the menu nonchalantly. All of this food was so fattening… but he was hungry.  
Eggs, bacon, and toast? Well, at least there was coffee included. Oh, they had some omelets…  
  
The waitress came to them, an exhausted expression on her face as she looked at him and then immediately at the Caucasian girl, speaking to her in a language Gackt couldn’t understand. Hungarian most likely, he thought matter-of-factly. The girl giggled, which was difficult to do with that voice and raised her hands apologetically:  
  
“Sorry, do you speak English?” So she wasn’t from here either.  
  
They both had to point on the menu to explain what they wanted, the House Special for her and the vegetable omelet with coffee for him and the waitress finally left, but not before looking at them both quizzically, like they were a very strange pairing.  
Silence. He suddenly found his hands extremely interesting as he realized there was not much he wanted to talk about.  
Thankfully, the girl seemed to share his sentiment and she pulled out a small notepad and a pen, writing something down as they waited. He stole occasional glances, angry with himself for not remembering to bring those things himself. Maybe he could’ve written some songs while on vacation?  
  
Her eyebrows were knit together as she wrote and she had very long, thin fingers, he noted. Long, manicured black fingernails and a couple of simple silver rings.  
  
Their coffees arrived before their food and the girl’s entire face lit up as she took hold of the warm mug:  
  
“Damn, I need a coffee. You look like you need one, too.” She nodded at him, tilting her head to the side slightly, the corners of her lips upturned. He just nodded:  
  
“Jet lag.”  
“I see. So, are you this silent because of jet lag, or it is just the normal air of mystery?”  
He chuckled despite himself, covering his mouth:  
  
“Guess, I’m just tired.”  
“Nice to meet ya, Just Tired. I’m Alex.”  She quipped, entirely too pleased with herself.  
He almost rolled his eyes, but the corners of his mouth twitched. And then, before having the time to think about it, he gave her a fake name:  
“Ken. Nice to meet you.”  
  
She leaned back into the backrest of the booth, mug in hand:  
“Well, ain’t that a fitting name, pretty boy.”  
  
It took him a while. Did she mean the Ken doll? Why did he even say that name? Ah yes. It was short for Kenshin. Kenshin Uesugi was one of his favorite historical figures. He had no desire to explain:  
  
“Funny coincidence.”  
“Indeed.” She smiled, immediately noticing the waitress with big plates coming their way:  
“Dinner’s here!” She exclaimed quietly, like an excited child. She was so weird.  
  
The food was good. Either that, or he was really, really hungry. As they ate, she cheerfully asked him questions:  
  
“So, where are you headed, Ken?”  
He stopped with his fork halfway to his mouth, a quick wash of terror followed by one of annoyance at having to admit he doesn’t know. He disguised it with a shrug:  
“I don’t care. Just backpacking.”  
She nodded enthusiastically, taking a sip of coffee:  
“Well, that’s great! Wanna travel with me?”  
“You don’t even know me.”  
“You don’t know me either. But we both seem to just wanna wander. It would be easier together, I’ve got the ride and you’ve got the brawn, we could be an unstoppable tandem!”  
  
She playfully flexed her bicep before giggling again. Seriously, why did this girl drink coffee? She didn’t seem to need more energy.  
But he found himself having to put in an effort not to sound amused:  
“Sure. You do seem like you need someone to keep an eye on you.” He teased with his usual stone face but she just smirked at him, completely unfazed:  
“That’s the spirit, pretty boy! We gon’ have ourselves an adventure!”


	2. Cotton

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this turned out longer than I expected :O   
> Hope you enjoy!

The motel was cheap and almost completely vacant, which didn’t surprise Gackt. He couldn’t see anybody staying here unless they had to. With a shudder, he thought about hygiene. The bathrooms probably didn’t even have baths. What if there were roaches in the rooms?   
He glanced at Alex, trying to make himself share at least a fraction of her enthusiasm as she cheerfully rented two single-bed rooms for them and fiddled with the keys, twisting them between her fingers like throwing knives. The tired-looking receptionist, a woman in her early forties, with bleached blonde hair and stark black roots, wished them a nice stay, but even she sounded less than convincing.   
  
Alex gave him one of the keys, motioning towards the stairs with her head. She wore interesting earrings, he noted, her left ear was almost completely covered in them and on her right, she had a dragon-shaped ear cuff, with black zippers dangling from both ears. Zipper earrings. Cute.   
  
“Sooooo, Ken-doll, I’mma take a quick shower and then scout the place for a convenience store, we might need supplies. Wanna come with?”   
“To the shower?” He was only half-teasing since his exhaustion was clearly dulling his wit.   
She laughed her hoarse laughter again and he heard her voice crack a little. Damn, what did she do with those vocal cords?   
“Easy there, tiger, I know you paid for dinner and stuff, but it ain’t that easy! Besides, they didn’t even have donuts!” She mock-pouted, already climbing up the creaky stairs.   
“I was joking.” He protested weakly, following her, but she didn’t seem to hear or care.   
  
She double-checked the number on the plastic keychain given to her and found the door:  
“Okay, this is me, you’re next door. Brace yourself, this place might have cockroaches, or worse: FLORAL CURTAINSSSSSSS.” She whispered the last words like a child telling a ghost story and he chuckled:  
“That would indeed be worse.”  
He’d considered buying floral curtains for his house before but didn’t feel like telling her that.   
  
“I’mma knock on your door when I’m ready so if you’re not asleep by then, we can go to the store. They should be open for another hour or so, so hurry up if you wanna make it!”   
  
The room was better than he thought. Sure, the furniture looked rustic and the bed was not king-sized, but it was clean, with crisp white linens and there was a TV. He wasn’t so lucky with the bathroom. Ugh. Why do so many Westerners put toilets and showers in the same room? That was disgusting.   
  
With a deep sigh, he put his backpack on an armchair and selected some clean clothes. It was easy to pick, with how little he’d brought along.   
He removed his jewelry and clothes, checking the water in the shower. Good, there was plenty of hot water. His muscles were sore and his neck was stiff and he considered pretending he’s asleep when she knocked. He was pretty exhausted. But there was something about her cheerful disposition that made his mind less tired. He paused. Maybe he needed to make a friend like that. Another bonus was that she had no idea who he was and she just treated him like a random guy.   
Did she call all guys “pretty boy”? He frowned and immediately wondered why that bothered him.   
  
He rubbed his hair with a towel, scoffing at the cheap roughness of the fabric and opting to pat instead of scrubbing his body dry. He should buy a better towel somewhere, this would irritate his face.   
Wrapping the big towel around his waist, he left the bathroom only to almost jump in surprise when he saw Alex sitting in the armchair where he’d previously put his backpack.   
She was grinning, her lower belly showing in a tight white wifebeater and low-rise acid wash jeans, her hair was still wet and she was lightly swinging the foot of the leg she kept crossed, showing a rundown pair of black Converse shoes.   
  
“You really should lock your room, pretty boy. I knocked and heard the shower, so I thought I’d just wait here.”   
He blinked a couple of times. How was she so… relaxed? Was it a Westerner thing? Well, he wouldn’t be beaten at a game, even if he’d never played it before:  
“And you really shouldn’t enter men’s rooms uninvited.”   
  
She shrugged apologetically and he thought the gesture was adorable. He was surprised:  
“Sorry. But the view is nice.” The grin when she looked at his torso was anything but apologetic.  
“Is it? Well, sorry, but I have to obscure it with some clothing.”   
Not giving her a chance to respond, he walked to the bed where she’d moved his clothes from the armchair and dropped his towel, intending to shock her. His bandmates and crew had seen him naked countless times, as he even lived with some of them for a certain period. Besides, he knew his body was nothing to be ashamed of, with how much time he’d spend in the gym. But maybe this impossible girl would be embarrassed and he could laugh at her red cheeks.   
  
No such luck. She giggled, adjusting in her seat to face him:  
“Yeah, I was right. Great view.”   
  
Putting his underwear on, he looked her in the eyes:  
“Are you always this careless?”  
“I think you mean carefree and yes. There’s no point in living your life in fear and worry.”  
Again, that shrug, a slight tilt of the head and a smirk. His heart jumped so slightly he barely noticed.  
She nodded towards his crotch:  
  
“I have never seen a backpacker sporting D&G underwear before.”  
Ah, that’s right! He couldn’t make himself trade the comfort and quality of his underwear for some cheap crap. As he thought about what to say, he realized in horror that he was slowly getting hard. Why?! There was a strange, impossible woman uninvited in his room, seeming to hold all the cards in the situation and THAT was making him hard? Who was he?   
He quickly turned his back to her, grabbing his jeans, hoping she hadn’t noticed his sprouting erection as he thought about the most boring thing he could think of to make it go away.   
“Even backpackers can treat themselves, don’t you think?” He finally managed.  
“Certainly. I like D&G myself.”   
  
Well, now she was just torturing him, he had a fetish for D&G. Luckily, even if she noticed anything, she chose not to say.   
He zipped his jeans up effortlessly, thankful for trigonometry as he reached for his T-shirt.   
She stood up as he went to grab his shoes and silently motioned her to exit as he opened the door.  
  
  
  
The convenience store was a short walk away but fortunately, it was a 24/7 place, brightly lit and he squinted. He forgot his glasses in his room. Alex grabbed a basket as they entered the store, smiling and waving at the cashier, a lanky young guy with horrible acne. Gackt followed suit, feeling out of place but trying to not make it show. This whole situation was throwing him off balance and he hated that it gave him a strange rush.   
She scratched the back of her neck, staring at the shelf and with a thrill, he realized she was confused. His jubilation was short-lived as he followed her gaze and saw what she saw. He couldn’t read anything, nothing was in English!   
  
“Uhm…” he began but then she giggled:  
“Guess our adventure starts sooner than I thought, we get to pick snacks blindly!”   
She grabbed a packet of what looked like chocolate biscuits if the picture was anything to go by.  
  
“These seem horribly unhealthy, they are not donuts, but they will have to do.” She placed them in the basket, grinning.   
Humming some melody, she walked through the store without a care in the world.   
“You seem to really like donuts.”  
“Yeah, haven’t eaten them in a while.”   
“Why not?”   
  
She turned to him, pulling her shirt up as an answer. She had an impressive six-pack, he noticed.   
“Gotta keep these.”   
“So why eat donuts now?”  
Again, that shrug, why was it so charming?  
“I just want to, they make me happy. You can keep a secret, right?” She winked and he nodded with a smirk:  
“Maybe. What’s in it for me?”  
“Sneaky, aren’t we, pretty boy? Tell ya what, if I find my favorite donut, I will share. That is unparalleled generosity on my part, mind you!”   
“I don’t eat donuts. But thank you.”   
“You have no idea whatcha missing!” she teased “Not even a small bite?”   
  
Her amused face was very cute, he thought. He noticed her eyebrows and eyelashes were blonde and she had some freckles on her nose. Tall cheekbones but a small jaw. Grinning like that, she almost looked boyish. It was attractive.  
  
“Well, not of the donut, at least.” He raised an eyebrow, teasing. She playfully smacked his shoulder:  
“You’re impossible!”  
“Look who’s talking.”  
“I am not impossible! Just highly improbable.” And then she stuck her tongue out at him. It made him burst out laughing, bending over to contain the shaking of his shoulders as he held his stomach.  
  
“You are so childish!” He gasped as he calmed down.  
“Am I? Thanks!” She tousled his hair as he was bent over and walked away, inspecting more goods.   
Wasn’t being childish a bad thing? Everybody who accused him of the same seemed to think so. But it was fun. She seemed unperturbed by the implications and he envied her.   
  
She ended up buying some snacks, some medicine at the in-store pharmacy, along with other necessities like tissues, hand sanitizer, a flashlight and other things Gackt didn’t care about.   
He seemed to care more about observing her. She moved like she weighed nothing, the swing in her step noticeably stronger in her knees than hips. A real tomboy, she didn’t even walk like a typical woman. Still, it was charming, and he noticed the staff she’d stopped to ask for help all seemed to end up smiling by the time their conversation was complete. Like she had infectious cheerfulness.   
  
Their shopping complete, she paid in cash, not even giving him a chance to pay for the few items he selected. The lanky cashier eyed both of them, staring at Alex longer than necessary, his inflamed cheeks sporting even more redness than usual. He even stuttered when he thanked her for her purchase.   
Gackt wanted to laugh out loud, it was always interesting watching men become nervous around women, but this was even better since the woman in question didn’t even seem so feminine. Was the teenager confused? Entertaining.   
  
They left the store and headed back to the motel. She gazed up and pointed with the index finger of her free hand:  
“Look, Ken! So many stars!”   
He followed her gaze, surprised. She was right, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen the night sky so clearly. The evening was warm and the moon was almost full, illuminating this middle of nowhere like it were a stage.   
They both stopped to stare for a while, two people obviously unused to the quiet and the clarity of this night. Then a lone car passed them on the road and the moment was over.   
  
They walked in silence for a while and she finally said:  
“I’ve never been to Hungary before. But this…” She gestured around: “Could be anywhere in the world. The middle ground between some two cities, two worlds, vastness and the wind blurring the sense of location you might have. It’s oddly satisfying.”  
  
Had anyone ever told him he’d agree mere days ago, he would have called them crazy. But he did, his heartbeat was steady and his mind quiet for the first time in ages.  
  
“Don’t you feel strange just going on an adventure like that?”  
“Sure I do. But it is liberating in a way. Like my “real life” can wait.”  
He nodded. That was exactly what it was. Liberating.   


In front of their rooms, she arched an eyebrow:  
“If you haven’t changed your mind about coming with me, come wake me up whenever you sleep through that jet lag, I should get some rest myself, we can continue whenever, I’m not in a rush.”  
Her usual way of speaking, with all the slang, seemed to have slipped off.   
He wondered what else was prone to slipping off about this girl.   
  
“I will. Good night.”  
“Night!”   
She waved playfully before slipping into her room.   
  
He crashed on the bed not soon after, sleep swallowing him almost immediately.   
He was awoken at some time later in the night by some noise. His foggy mind needed a few seconds to decipher what it was. Then he realized the walls were paper thin and the noise was coming from her room. A terrible dry cough. He sat up. She was sick. Was that why her voice sounded so hoarse?  
As the coughing was getting worse, he heard her unlock her door and leave her room.   
He thought about going back to sleep but something pulled him out of bed and into his discarded jeans.   
He opened the curtains and looked through his window and sure enough, he could see her outside, wrapped in a jacket, sitting on a rock far from the motel building.   
With a deep sigh, he put on his shoes and went after her.   
  
She was sitting with her back to him and he realized she was smoking. Was she mad?   
“Hey.” He called out quietly so as not to startle her.   
“Hey, Ken doll. Sorry if I woke you up, this place is built like an egg carton.”   
  
The usual high energy in her voice was gone, replaced by the deep hoarse and a quip that seemed habitual more than witty. He sat on the large rock next to her, motioning for her to pass him the cigarette:  
  
“You shouldn’t be smoking with that cough.”  
“This is my first one in two weeks.” She took a long drag of the cigarette before handing it to him.   
“Are you alright?” He asked, trying to sound more concerned than exasperated.   
“Never better.” She was a terrible liar.  
“You don’t sound it.”   
“It’s nothing.”    
He rolled his eyes, blowing out smoke rings that she followed with her gaze. In his usual flat tone, he teased:  
“Come on… After I have bared my all to you, you don’t want to tell me?”   
“Your bare ass is hardly “all”, pretty boy.” Even her giggle was weak. He sighed, pressing the cigarette butt under his sole:  
“Okay. Then ask me anything and I will answer, if you tell me what’s wrong.”   
  
She thought for a long time. Finally, she asked:  
“What do you hope to gain from this trip?”  
He was confused. What did she mean? Did she assume he would…  
“Don’t worry. I don’t intend to harm you in any way.”   
She laughed at that, her laughter struggling against another cough:  
“That’s not what I meant.” She finally managed. “I meant for you. What does this mean to you?”   
  
Now was his turn to think hard. He didn’t know exactly and even if he did, he wondered if he should tell her. He didn’t usually like talking about his feelings, especially when any information might reveal who he is. Finally, he shrugged:  
  
“I don’t know. Guess I just needed a vacation.”   
She nodded thoughtfully and pulled out her cigarette packet, offering him one after she pulled one out for herself with her lips. Lighting it with a heavy Zippo, she handed it to him and exhaled a puff of blue smoke towards the sky:  
“Me too. But most importantly, I needed to escape advice. I am sick and tired of listening to what I should and shouldn’t do. Yeah, I shouldn’t eat sugar and smoke with laryngitis. Guess what? I don’t give a fuck.” She paused, taking another drag of her cigarette thirstily:   
“So I just wanted to step away to recharge my fuck-giving batteries. There. Happy?”   
  
He’d never heard her frustrated before, he started to doubt she was even capable of being frustrated or angry. He recognized her anger was not with him. She was just tired of her life at the moment. Like him.   
  
“I’m not happy you’re sick and angry. But I will happily stop advising you, okay?”   
She smiled and patted him on the knee gently:  
“Thanks, Ken. I appreciate it. Sorry for snapping at you.”   
“Oh, you will have to make it up to me.” He teased her again calmly. And just like that, she giggled again:  
“Sure, pretty boy. Name yer price!”   



	3. Rubber

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another one :D  
> I'll continue Mint Tea And Chocolate soon, I promise haha

The next morning seemed to have come all too soon and he woke up with heavy limbs but feeling better than yesterday. He peeked through his curtains only to conclude that it was before noon, which was good. The sky was clear and the sun shone brightly on the dusty vastness around him. He couldn’t remember the last time he slept this much.  
  
Checking his disheveled hair in the mirror, he stepped into the shower, carefully washing his flight clothes and placing them on some hangers to dry.  
Washing his hair, he thought about his conversation with Alex last night. She told him to name his price and he just laughed and promised he’d let her know.  
Truth was, he didn’t know what to ask for either. He really wanted to have a turn at riding her bike. But there was also something else in him that wanted to dig his nails into her hips and shut her up with a kiss until they’re both panting.  
He shook his head. She was supposed to be his friend, the balance of their strange companionship was lying on that fact. So maybe he will just ask if she’d let him ride the bike today.  
  
He cracked the bathroom door open and peeked and almost laughed at himself, realizing he was checking if she was sitting in his armchair again. She wasn’t. The mixture of relief and disappointment startled him.  
He got dressed and realized he’s hungry. His legs also felt stiff and he realized he hasn’t exercised in a few days. That wasn’t good, he had to… But he was on vacation. Surely one more day wouldn’t kill him.  
  
Through the wall, he heard Alex singing and flinched.  
Her voice was quiet but it was still obvious she couldn’t pull off some higher notes, it would break and she’d croak weirdly before trying to clear her throat and do the note again. After a few attempts, she got slightly better and he could hear that she could probably sing very well when healthy.  
She mumbled something in a language Gackt didn’t know and he wondered where she was actually from, that language didn’t sound like French or Italian…  
  
He waited for her to become quiet again before he went to knock on her door.  
“Come in!”  
He elegantly slid into her room, only to find her pacing the place in her underwear, setting some of her own clothes to dry near the window, her curtains wide open.  
She didn’t lie, she liked Dolce and Gabbana and was wearing one of their last year’s models, her almost completely flat chest in a sports top with straps crossing over her back. She had several tattoos which didn’t surprise him, there was a big dragon on her back and he could see it curved around her torso, black with blue and red accents. On the back of her thighs, she had two black ravens facing away from each other, one taking for the sky and the other one landing.  
The sunlight played wonderful tricks on her pale skin, illuminating the tiny hairs on the back of her neck and they shone like white gold, her long legs silently pacing through the room and he noticed a scar on her right ankle.  
  
“Good morning, pretty boy!”  
She called out to him cheerfully, pulling out a pair of tight pants with a geometric print from her bag.  
“Good morning, Alex. Slept well?”  
  
He wanted to embrace her from behind and leave marks down her neck all the way to the dragon’s tail before pushing her face down onto the bed. He pushed the thought aside, thinking about arpeggios instead.  
She hopped into her pants before sitting on the bed to put on a pair of socks and he noticed her nipples were outlined under the fabric of her top. Why couldn’t he have come 5 minutes later?  
Arpeggios. Trigonometry. The battle formation at Sekigahara.  
  
“Yeah, pretty well, actually, I feel better today than yesterday. And yerself? Slain the jetlag dragon?”  
He chuckled, leaning his elbow on the closet and crossing his legs:  
“I hope so. But I need coffee.”  
She put on a loose plain white T-shirt and adjusted a part of the hem into her pants before rolling one sleeve slightly up so that the neckline falls off one shoulder slightly. It was the type of careful effortlessness Gackt knew too well.  
She dug out a chunky pair of dog tags from her bag and put it around her neck before adjusting her hair with her fingers blindly, it set into her usual hairstyle by itself and he was envious. That was so easy.  
“Ah yes, coffee sounds great. Lemme just grab my sneakers.”  
  
The diner looked different in the morning, there actually were some patrons this time.  
The booth they sat in yesterday was empty, though, so they settled there again.  
Coffee mugs in hand, she nodded at Gackt:  
“Ok, so pretty boy, is there somewhere ya wanna go?”  
He thought for a second before realizing he didn’t know much about sights in Hungary.  
“Isn’t there some famous lake?”  
Her eyes lit up:  
“Yeah, the Balaton! Guess what, if we keep going down this road, that’s where we’re headed! It might be a little too cold to swim now, but still, it’s gonna be great!”  
“Is it far?” He thought about her in a bathing suit.  
“Nah, a couple of hours in fact. We can leave after lunch, just gotta wait for my clothes to dry.”  
She took a sip of her coffee, suddenly remembering something with an “ah!” sound:  
“Have ya decided on yer price yet?” She wiggled her eyebrows amusedly.  
  
This was it. He shouldn’t say he wanted to leave his autograph in hickeys on her body.  
“I want to ride the bike.”  
Her eyes widened for a second before she arched an eyebrow and grinned:  
“That’s all?”  
No! But it will have to do.  
“Yes.”  
“I usually don’t let people ride my baby.”  
“Afraid she’d like me riding her better?”  
Without thinking, he leaned in across the table, a glint in his eyes. She mirrored him:  
“Yeah. What if I get jealous?”  
“I’ll find a way to placate you.”  
  
Before either of them had a chance to think about the implications of their sudden flirting, their food arrived. The waitress today was a young, cheerful-looking blonde girl with braided hair. She glanced at both of them as she laid the plates, clasping both hands over her chest:  
“You guys are SOOOO cute together, you know?!”  She remarked, her voice clear and high.  
  
They both turned to her, Alex immediately straightening in her seat, but Gackt remaining in his position a while longer and stealing a glance at her, even though the remark caught him off-guard too.  
“We’re just friends.” She sputtered, immediately seemingly regretting it. Defending yourself always sounded fake in these kinds of situations and the waitress was not buying it, uttering an unconvinced “mhmmm” before turning to Gackt:  
“You seem to have wanted to kiss your friend back there.” She teased and he felt furious. Was this girl annoying them on purpose, nothing better to do?  
“And you interrupted. I can kiss you too, if you want. But I do bite. Hard.”  
  
That did the trick. She widened her eyes, studying his stone face before mumbling an apology and leaving in a haste.  
Alex laughed. He noticed her laughter sounded better today.  
“You’re a master of deadpan, ya know?”  
“I do try.”  
She just nodded, not knowing what to say for the first time and he felt himself relaxing. This entire ordeal was worth it only to see her confused face when she decided not to say anything else.  
They ate in silence and he wondered what she was thinking about. Her cheeks were slightly rosy and she ate much slower than last night, chewing each bite carefully. She never even pulled out her notepad.  
She spoke only when she gently pushed her plate away, having eaten maybe half of the food:  
  
“Ok, Ken. I’mma let ya ride the bike to Balaton, ‘s that alright?”  
“Perfect. You were really thinking hard about it, weren’t you?”  
She opened her mouth, then closed it and smiled, her eyes crinkling:  
“Yeah. Among other things.”  
Other things?  
“Oh?”  
“Just work stuff.” She lied but he decided to play along:  
“But you’re on vacation. Think about all the fun we will have together.”  
There it is, the rosiness in her cheeks. But then she narrowed her eyes:  
“You promised not to advise me.”  
“And I didn’t. That was an order.” He was leaning in again, realizing flirting with her was too fun to pass up. She sighed with a weak embarrassed chuckle:  
“Alright then. Only fun thoughts!”  
“Good girl.”  
The look on her face was priceless and he leaned back into his seat, sipping on his coffee with a satisfied grin.  
  
  
They returned to the motel and she was stretching her arms all the way. It looked oddly cute.  
“I am so stiff.” She complained. “Think I will go for a jog. Do ya jog, Ken?”  
“I do. I’ve missed a few days now.”  
“Well, we can’t have that!” He noticed she was trying desperately to steer their conversation back to friendly teasing and considered whether to grant her mercy.  
“Wanna go jogging together?” She asked finally.  
“Of course. Or we can race and the loser has to do what the winner asks.”  
He realized he’s made a mistake as soon as her face lit up and a catlike grin spread on her face:  
“That sounds great.” She was overly confident.  
  
And soon he realized why. Gackt was not a slow runner by any means, but the girl sprinted like the wind. She’d probably done track and field before, he thought.  
She beat him almost embarrassingly easily even though her breath was slightly wheezy by the end.  
It was stupid to do this with her laryngitis but he promised not to nag. Besides, he was the one who suggested it, still not even fully comprehending why.  
She bent over, grabbing her thighs to catch her breath:  
“Are you alright?”  
“I should ask ya the same thing, slowpoke!” She laughed breathily.  
  
Gackt normally hated losing, but she was so cute in her triumph he couldn’t bring himself to be upset.  
  
“I let you win.”  
“Sure ya did.” She grinned, straightening her back.  
“Hmmm, so now I get to ask for whatever I want, right?”  
“That’s right.” He realized he was actually curious. Had he won, the easy way out was to just ask for more time on the bike, even though he had other ideas. But what could she ask of him?  
His eyes almost popped out of his skull as she said seriously:  
“Sleep with me.”  
The seriousness was short-lived as she burst out laughing at his face:  
“Had ya there, didn’t I?” She pumped her fist in the air excitedly:  
“I just wanted to throw you off-balance, Stone Face!”  
  
“Okay.” He recovered faster than he thought possible, deciding to get his revenge. This girl will NOT get the best of him. Even if he had to throw the entire friendship thing in the wind. They could still remain friends, friends can sleep with each other, right?  
“Okay?” She parroted in astonishment.  
“Yeah. I did say the loser has to do what the winner asked. Besides, who’s to say I wouldn’t have asked the same thing had I won? So, this just MIGHT be a win for me anyway.”  
  
She fell silent, her blush furious. For the first time, she looked at him with a vulnerable sort of disbelief and there was something strange about that look, but he couldn’t quite place what.  
She just turned her back to him and crouched, pretending to tie her already tied shoelaces.  
  
“Backing out so easily? Coward.” He teased. “And YOU wanted to throw ME off-balance.”  
  
The sudden stubbornness in her voice was more delicious than his favorite wine:  
“Nah, I was just trying to recall if I packed any condoms.”  
“Tsk tsk tsk. So unprepared.”  
  
She laughed, finally facing him:  
“Yeah, but it’s an opportunity to render that pimply kid in the store completely speechless!”  
He had packed condoms but she was right, it was a show. And he found it interesting how her first reflex when she was uncomfortable was to make a childish joke or plan a prank.  
“Come to think of it, you’re right.”  
“I’m always right. K! Time for more shopping! I need a better shampoo, too, this stuff the place provides is atrocious!”  
He agreed before he paused to think how weird this whole conversation was, they planned sex like some people would plan a picnic. But the teasing was too fun. He had a feeling she would back out at some point and wondered when exactly.  
  
The bright lights in the store weren’t any different during the day than during the night and for the second time, he cursed his forgetfulness, no sunglasses again.  
Alex paced through the shelves, fidgeting with various items and as he watched her focus intently on shampoo bottles the labels of which she couldn’t even read; he fought hard to suppress laughter. She was nervous and she was trying to hide it as best as she could.  
After picking up a couple more things, they found themselves in front of the shelf with massage oils, lubricants, and condoms. He felt like teasing her more so he carelessly knocked several packs into the basket.  
She looked at him with a raised eyebrow:  
“Oh c’mon!”  She spat in disbelief.  
“What?”   
“Seven boxes? Of Magnums?”  
“What’s that saying: go big or go home? Besides, you wanted to make a show.”  
She glanced at the basket again before locking eyes with him again:  
“But this is an exaggeration. Nobody will believe you need all that.”  
“You will.”  He grinned and she just put her palm over her face, shaking her head before her exasperation was replaced by quiet laughter that seemed to pick up momentum. He knew this kind of laughter all too well, this was the defense mechanism when a person was under stress.  
He wondered whether he was the only thing to be stressing her out.

Her shoulders shaking, she managed to contain her laughter and sighed a couple of times to steady her breath. He took a step toward her, their faces close and he brushed a strand of her hair away from her eyes before running his fingertip down her nose and over her lips, outlining their contours gently:  
“You nervous?”  
“No way!” Her eyes sparked stubbornly and he smiled at her.  
“Good. Nobody likes a quitter.”  
Her eyes still flashing at him, she nipped at his finger playfully:  
“You’re stalling. Get a move on.”  
“Now you’re impatient?”  
“Like you aren’t.” Another childish quip and he figured he would have to tickle her into submission.  
It was strange. He always thought a woman like this would annoy him to no end but there was something about Alex that made it impossible for Gackt to not like her.  
She was innocent, he realized. Her eyes were childishly wide open to the world and she just reveled in being alive and having fun. With a tinge of shame, he thought that there was much he could learn from her, even though she seemed to be almost 10 years younger than him.  
In fact, she reminded him of that guitarist kid he became friends with only recently. He also had those eyes of a child in a candy store. The two of them would probably be a perfect couple, he thought and realized he wouldn’t like that. Why?  
  
“Ken!” He snapped out of his thoughts and realized she called his name a couple of times already.  
They were in the drinks section and she gestured toward the shelves, placing a big bottle of orange juice she’d already selected in the basket:  
“Pick whatcha wanna drink, stop daydreaming, you’ll see me naked soon enough.” She giggled.  
He scoffed at her and picked a bottle of the most expensive wine without really thinking:  
“Woah, tiger, you’re driving today, remember?”  
“Who said we’ll leave the bed today?”  
She gave him another one of her “you’re impossible but I love it” glances and just waved her hand.  
  
She was definitely right, the kid didn’t know what hit him. After all, their basket was filled with cosmetics, drinks, and condoms. Classy.  
He didn’t even dare look at Alex but he did glare several daggers at Gackt, to which he just grinned until the kid’s face was redder than a red carpet.  
The “thank you for your purchase” was the least sincere thing he’d ever heard and he glanced at Alex, whose sore throat came in useful as she mock-coughed to disguise her laughter, hand over her mouth.  
  
They both burst out laughing as soon as the automatic door closed behind them.  
“Have you seen his face, oh God…” Alex wheezed, holding her stomach.  
“Yeah, you broke the poor boy’s heart.”  
“I am horrible aren’t I… but boy… “thank you for your purchase.” She imitated the boy’s hateful voice before bursting into another fit of laughter.  
He caught himself thinking he was perfectly content with the sex thing just being a joke as long as she laughed like this and he didn’t like that.  
  
He grabbed the second bag from her and placed both of them in his left hand, taking hers with her right.  
“Let’s go. This sun is giving me a headache.”  
He probably sounded grumpy but he was trying to push the feeling her laughter gave him aside. It was a weird feeling. She was just a friend with a nice ass. Her laughter was irrelevant.  
  
They climbed up the stairs in the motel and as they reached their rooms, he finally let go of her hand, not even realizing he was still holding it.  
She shifted her weight from foot to foot:  
“Uhm… I’ll go take a shower.”  
He unlocked his door, pushing it open and motioning for her to enter:  
“Sure. I’ll join you.”  
She stuttered for a second, her recoveries still too slow for him to not notice:  
“Are you sure?”  
“It will be faster, right? Besides, it’s hot. But if you’re shy…”  
  
She hastily unlocked her own door:  
“You little… I’mma just get a change of clothes. Shy! Pffft!”  
  
She slammed the door shut and he could barely keep from laughing, she was so easily taunted into everything he wanted.  
He entered his room, leaving the door unlocked for her and unpacking the bags before removing his shoes and socks when she entered, carrying some clothes over her arm and kicked her shoes off lazily.

She managed to calm down, he noticed and she grinned at him:  
“Still dressed, pretty boy? I kinda expected you to be flaunting already!”  
  
He closed the distance between them, pinning her against the door and leaning in:  
“It’s more fun to take someone else’s clothes off.”  



	4. Water

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo hoo, smut! :D

Her big green eyes widened for a second as her breath hitched at his sudden movement before she smiled again, wrapping her arms around his waist:   
“Is it now? Well, then. Let’s have fun.”   
  
He kissed her passionately, his lips quickly burning their way through the tenseness of her as she melted into the kiss and he pressed his entire body against her, holding her hip and cheek as if he would never let her go. She tasted like strawberries and he could feel the faint scent of vanilla from her skin, mixed with still fresh sweat from their race earlier. He bit on her lower lip, his left hand hiking her T-shirt up, trailing along her narrow waist as his tongue twirled against hers and he felt her long nails along the back of his neck, climbing into his hair and it sent shivers down his spine.   
  
Her body was warm against his and her heartbeat was rapid as his fingers teased her waistband and snaked behind her back to feel the dimples above her ass before he grabbed it and pulled her completely snug against him, letting her feel his budding arousal and she gasped into his mouth before he finally released her lips and immediately went for her neck, laying nips and kisses on it until she moaned softly and ground her entire body against him.   
  
He forced himself to pull away and grab the hem of her T-shirt, pulling it up and she raised her arms to help him before she returned the favor on his T-shirt, her nails immediately running down his sculpted torso. It made him harder. She admired the white trails that turned pink on his skin before their eyes met briefly and he thought that she was beautiful. As if she could read his mind, she smiled that pure smile of hers, her eyes narrowing and her head tilting slightly.   
He had to hide from that smile. So he grabbed her thigh and pulled it against his hip, pinning her even tighter to the door and biting on her collarbone before his lips found her nipples, still obscured by her sports bra. He traced his tongue over her right nipple, sucking until he made it rock hard and he felt her nails on his back. His cock throbbed and he pulled her closer by her thigh.   
  
Once he was satisfied with how perky her nipples looked, perfectly visible through the wet white fabric, he put her leg down and placed her hand on his crotch.  
She rubbed gently, all too gently for his liking as her tongue ran up his throat and she started kissing his neck until he gasped and then moaned at those nails, raking his back and teasing his arousal through the denim. She unbuckled his belt with practiced fingers as she bit his neck and he found himself cupping the back of her head to keep her there.   
His jeans fell to the floor and he immediately kicked them aside and grabbed her wrists, pinning them to the door before his lips traced down her torso, his hands sliding down her arms and body as he slowly crouched before her, pulling her pants down as he went.   
  
There was nothing sexier than Dolce and Gabbana panties clinging to wet pussy, he thought as his tongue darted out and he ran it against her slit over the fabric, her fingers quickly in his hair again.   
His lips took hold of her through the fabric softly and she almost purred as her palms traced the back of his head and her nails gently scratched his nape. He locked his fingers in the hem of her panties, lowering them slowly, his breath like fire against her folds.   
Giving her one last teasing lick, he stood up, his fingers running up her stomach and under the elastic of her bra, pulling it up.   
He gazed at her finally naked body. Her breasts were very small but he found it attractive, with those hard pink nipples and a tattoo of a geometric symbol between them, down almost to her navel.   
She was completely smooth and he thought about exploring every inch of her with his tongue.   
As his eyes finally met hers, her cheeks were pink and her lips looked well-kissed as she pressed them against his again and pushed his boxers down, those deliciously sharp nails grazing his hips.   
They both stepped out of their discarded clothing and he realized they would never reach the shower if they kept this up.  
  
He picked her up effortlessly and carried her to the bathroom, stealing hungry kisses all the way.   
He was tempted to place her on the bathroom counter and just take her there, but he really wanted to see her completely wet in the shower first.   
Thankfully, the shower was big enough for two and he turned it on quickly, the initial blast of cooler water making her step away from the jet and into his arms. He chuckled and adjusted the temperature:  
“Better?”  
“Too cold still.”  
“I’ll keep you warm.”  
He pulled her closer and their wet bodies collided as he kissed her, the water covering their hair and she pulled away to run her fingers through her hair and slick it back. His cock throbbed. He loved that she looked so androgynous, clearly a woman but still so handsomely boyish.   
She flashed another one of those smiles at him before gently slicking his wet hair back too:  
  
“You look great with your hair back.” She remarked.   
“You look great naked and wet.” He murmured and took her wrists, placing her hands on his torso again.   
She understood what he wanted and ran her nails down, refreshing the marks from earlier.   
He pulled her closer with one hand, his hard cock against her hip as he reached for the shampoo and realized he forgot to bring in the good one that she bought. She glanced at the bottle and giggled:  
“Guess I’m doomed to frizzy hair today.”   
“We both are.” He scoffed with a smile before squeezing some of the shampoo in his hand and gently spreading it over her scalp, massaging her head as she was pressed snug against him, feeling his arousal, body heat and the water all over their bodies. Her eyes were closed and her hands were on his chest as he gently washed her hair, spreading the abundant foam down her neck and breasts before reaching for the body wash.   
  
This felt oddly good. It’s been a while since he slept with someone, but even longer since he showered with someone. He took his time washing her entire body, his fingers looking for spots that would make her gasp, shudder or moan. Her skin was soft under his fingertips and he admired the curves as she’d follow his touch whenever he hit a spot.   
Turning her away from him, his fingers found her folds, slick with her juices and water and he spread them, hearing her gasp and embrace his neck with one arm as he nibbled on her ear lobe. She arched her back and her ass rubbed against his rock hard cock as his middle finger entered her and they both gasped at the sensation.   
  
His finger slowly circled before pulling almost all the way out and sliding into her again and she whimpered softly, his arousal nested between her firm butt cheeks.   
His lips found her ear again and he teased:  
“Look how wet you are.” Before slipping in another finger effortlessly. She chuckled breathily through her suppressed moan and ground her ass against his cock:  
“Look how hard you are.”   
“You can do more than just look.”   
  
She turned toward him, his fingers slipping out and it was her turn to wash him.   
She started with his hair, kissing his lips and face periodically as those nails gently grazed his scalp here and there. Down his chest she went, enjoying his gasps as the sharpness of nails contrasted with her soft palms. Finally, her fingers encircled his member. She took it in both hands gently and he chuckled when she realized the entire head is still exposed as she held it and gasped.   
That kind of reaction to his size never got old.   
She looked him in the eyes and smiled:  
“Guess you’re no liar, huh?”   
  
He shook his head before he felt a slight pang of guilt in his chest. He was just lying about everything he was, including his name.   
It was difficult to focus on that as she gently stroked him and her lips explored his collarbone and neck and soon he found himself thrusting into her hand before she slid down on her knees in front of him.   
Her tongue ran up his length slowly and as she twirled it around his wet head, he thought about fucking her in every town, every place, every motel on this trip.  
She wrapped her lips around his tip and they slowly slid down, his fingers cupping her head as he gasped. Her head bobbed up and down slowly, taking him deeper every time and her tongue massaged his length and he realized she was great at this as he started rolling his hips, something he usually tried not to do, with his size. But it seemed to glide easily as he pushed to the back of her throat and she adjusted easily and he grunted, barely managing to not grab her by the ears and facefuck her like this was a porno.   
He felt himself sliding out with a plop and as he tried to keep her down, she giggled, her warm breath against his skin:  
“As much as I’d love to keep sucking you off, pretty boy, the water is getting cold.”   
  
Damn, she was right, he didn’t even notice, but they used up nearly all the hot water. She stood up and stopped the water before squeezing it out of her hair, looking at him. They barely even bothered with toweling off before they were devouring each other’s lips again, walking to the bed.   
He pushed her on it and quickly grabbed one packet of condoms, throwing it on the pillow near her head before he lifted her legs on his shoulders, diving in to devour her pussy.   
Water dripped from his hair and she hissed at the contrast of its coolness and the heat of his tongue as he fucked her with it before sucking on her clit and savoring her taste. His tongue trailed up her stomach, teeth grazing and nipping before he straightened up, her thighs against his hips and she handed him the packet wordlessly.   
  
Even with all the practice he’d had with this, he fumbled with it, with the hurry he was in and he noticed her trying not to laugh. He glared at her, figuring out how to unravel the rubber demon:  
“Something funny?”   
“We just look like two teenagers after prom.”   
“Remind me to ask you later what that is.”   
He finally slid the condom all the way to his base and leaned in over her, supporting his weight with one hand, his other holding his throbbing cock as he positioned it on her entrance, teasing it, sliding between her folds, barely pushing in the tip before pulling away and she moaned softly, trying to push down onto him:  
“Uh-uh-uh!” He shook his head. “Beg.”   
Her lust-filled eyes widened and she smiled confusedly:  
“Sorry?”   
“Ask me very nicely to fuck you.”   
She giggled playfully before making her voice all timid and sweet:  
“Oh, will you please fuck me, mister?”   
“More.” He loved this, he wished he could get her to act like this more often. She was at her cutest all needy and obedient like this.   
“I need you inside of me. Please. I’ll be a good girl.”   
“Oh, yes you will.”   
He slipped inside with a smooth, hard thrust and they both moaned at the sensation.   
He felt how she stretched to accommodate him and it was one of the best feelings in the world so he pulled all the way out and entered her anew.   
“Oh, God…” She moaned, her eyes closed.   
“Yes, my dear?” He teased, his voice heavy with lust. She tried to laugh but the feeling of him was distracting so it came out like a strangled moan:  
“You’re impossible.” She managed and he entered her balls deep:  
“Yes, don’t stop…”   
“Magic word?”  
“Please.”  
“Good girl.”  
  
The water from his hair dripping on her face and pillow, their eyes locked as he thrust deep into her, building up a fast rhythm that made her moan deliciously as she pressed those nails into his back and clenched his girth with her tight pussy, trying to roll her hips towards him.  
“I want to ride you.” She whispered and he readily grabbed her, flipping them with ease, never slipping out of her until she was on top and she sat up, enjoying the feeling, her eyes closed.  
  
It was a sight. He filled her to the brim, her toned body straight, those nipples rock hard as she started rolling her hips, holding his bent knees for support until her head was tilted back in pleasure and her moans became higher and more urgent. He felt his own lower stomach tightening, she was riding him like a vixen and he was close and just as she lowered her gaze and his eyes searched for hers, she lowered herself, nuzzling his neck to muffle her scream as she came so hard he was almost able to see starts as he followed her, milked by her spasms, he raised his hips into hers as his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he held her hips until he was almost certain he bruised them.   
  
Her body went limp in post-orgasmic bliss as she took a brief respite in his neck before giggling again:  
  
“That was great, Ken-doll.”   
“Indeed. You make cute sounds when you cum.”   
  
She laughed again and it sounded almost like silver bells and he wondered if her voice recovered or if he got used to it. Then she slowly got off of him and immediately off the bed.   
His eyes followed her, wondering if she was already getting ready to go. That thought was oddly unpleasant. Why? He usually had no problems with leaving as soon as he’s had sex with somebody. But he wanted to talk to her more.   
  
However, she just walked to the little table and grabbed the drinks, looking around for something:  
  
“Say, Ken?”   
“Hmmm?” He stood up and headed to the bathroom to remove the condom.   
“You didn’t buy any glasses, did you?”   
“Glasses?”   
“For drinking. Cups.”   
Damn, he forgot. Why did he keep forgetting things around this woman?   
“Yeah, no. I didn’t even realize it until now.”   
  
He heard her laugh:  
“You scatterbrain.” It didn’t sound accusatory. It sounded endearing and it made him smile.  
“Well, I am a doll, aren’t I? You’re the brain of the operation.”   
“Good one. Well, the brain didn’t deliver this time, either. We drink from bottles.”  
“Such blatant rule breaking.”   
“I love to live dangerously.” They both laughed and she handed him his wine:  
“You’re right. We don’t have to leave today.”   
  
And so they went back to bed, each with a bottle in hand and he wondered why it felt so natural.   



	5. Sunset

He propped the pillows against the wall for them to lean on and she snuggled up against him, taking a sip of the orange juice. He traced the outline of her thigh with his fingers:  
  
“So… what did you say, two teenagers after what?”  
“Prom. You’ve never heard of it?”  
“No.”  
“It’s a formal dance, a celebration when you graduate from high school. Everybody wears nice clothes and you go to prom with one of your classmates as your date, usually dates color-coordinate or something.”  
“I see. My high school had no such dance.”  
She chuckled:  
“Well, I suppose you didn’t miss much.”  He grinned at her:  
“But AFTER prom, it gets fun, is that what you said?”  She laughed before taking another sip of juice:  
“In most cases. In my case, I just called a cab, cursing the person who invented high heels. I will never forget those blisters.” She sighed in mock horror.   
“You wore high heels?” He chuckled surprised and she pouted:  
“Yes, and for your information, I walked just fine… Until it started to hurt at least. But I thought I looked great, a long black dress, my hair was up in a bun and I even had a pearl necklace… I wanted to look like Audrey Hepburn.”   
“Ah, from Breakfast at Tiffany’s. That’s very pretty. So, why didn’t you have any fun with your date?”   
“Because he was gay.”   
He raised his eyebrows and she added:  
“He was a good friend and my boyfriend at the time didn’t go to the same high school so I couldn’t have gone with him anyway. So it was just practical for the two of us to go together.”   
  
He reached for the little table, feeling it for the pack of cigarettes he bought and fishing out the ashtray provided by the motel. He wondered if she could dance and if she would dance with him. They could have their own prom… He almost frowned. That sounded way too romantic for what this was. He lit two cigarettes, giving her one and she asked:  
  
“So, tits for tats. Gimme a high school memory of your own!”   
He chuckled, the memory of flipping his obnoxious teacher’s sports car upside down immediately coming to mind. Then he froze. He told it so many times on TV, that could ring a bell. So, he had to tell her something he never told in public before:  
“I lost a bet and had to ask a girl I didn’t like out on a date.”   
“Oh? And?”  He laughed:  
“She said no.” She followed him, giggling loudly:  
“Wait, lemme get this straight. It was lucky because ya didn’t like her, but at the same time, I have a feeling it was a bruise for your ego?” She teased.   
“You wound me. I am not that egotistical.”   
“Ya are.”  
“Yeah, I am.” He admitted, still laughing: “I was pissed, so after that, she was sure I had a thing for her.”  
“And?”  
“And all her friends would give me weird, knowing stares all throughout the year.”   
“That’s actually such a typical high school story.” She mused.  
“First you call me egotistical and then my life is typical?” He threatened her with a tickle.  
“Well, I dunno ‘bout your life, but that story is. And very funny.”   
“Since you like laughing…”   
  
He started tickling her ribs and she giggled, swatting his hand away but to no avail. He teased her when she least expected and after their cigarettes were extinguished, they found themselves making out and having sex again. He felt relaxed and he wondered how he could feel so good with someone he’s keeping a huge secret from. Wanting to ease his guilt, he thought that he’s probably not the only one who’s not telling everything. That train of thought surprised him even more as his first assumption was that she was married. After all, he’d been married at 20, for all he knew, she could even have children…   
That thought was more unpleasant than it should be and he pushed it aside. It shouldn’t be his problem anyway, this was just fun and there were no strings attached.   
  
He gazed at her still naked body as she was standing next to the open window, the curtain hiding her, smoking, ashtray in hand, the late afternoon sun coloring her skin red and orange. She was staring at the distance and there was something odd about her face. She put the cigarette out, turning to him before hunting for her scattered clothes:  
  
“I’m going to take a shower and we can go downstairs for dinner later? I’m starving.”   
Her smile seemed a bit strained and he wondered why the mood was different now. He just nodded and she left.  
  
They were in the diner an hour later and he felt like he was crazy. Any change he thought he’d seen earlier was completely gone and the cheerful, bubbly Alex was back full-force:  
  
“We’re leaving for Balaton tomorrow morning, early, right after breakfast, k?”   
Not waiting for his reply, she continued:  
“And get this, if we keep going, we will reach Croatia soon! They have amazing waterfalls in this one place, I cannot hope to pronounce it right and they also have a great seaside, or so I’ve heard! By the time we get there, it might just be warm enough to swim!”   
He just nodded, suddenly feeling tired. She seemed to notice that and she kept relatively quiet for the rest of the evening.  
  
She refused to sleep in his room with a grin:  
“Sorry, pretty boy, I still sometimes cough at night, but… in a few days?”  
“Sure.”   
  
It was difficult to fall asleep that night and he had no idea why. He didn’t exactly regret sleeping with her but he felt strange. Like there was some sort of balance he’d disrupted. He liked her smile more now. He was even bugged by that short change of mood at sunset. Maybe she was just tired. Why did he ask her to spend the night in his room? Sure, he would have liked to fuck her again but that was not the only reason. What was?  
He turned in bed and felt her scent on his sheets. He sat up. He could hear her coughing from her room, but it didn’t sound nearly as bad as the previous night, it was much quieter now.   
He had no idea when he finally managed to fall asleep.  
  
The morning came too soon and he drank two cups of coffee. She was in her usual chipper mood and happily munched on her toast, showing him the map. They both barely resisted getting it on again after breakfast before they checked out and got back on the bike. She handed him the helmet with a grin:  
“Here you go, Captain, I hope you lead us well!” He chuckled, giving her his sunglasses in exchange.   
  
The bike was smooth under him, like a powerful, but a tame beast and he soon found himself calmer than he’d ever been before. Everything seemed perfect. The day was warm but the wind was cool, there were no people except the beautiful woman hugging him around the waist and he was just Ken, a man who decided to have a great vacation.   
  
The houses and the small, almost curly hills were the sign this ride was almost over and he took a deep breath, getting ready to stand on the ground and have thoughts swarming in his mind again.   
She looked good with his sunglasses, thin metal rims, and dark red lenses. He could still see how her eyes widened behind the redness as she took in the sight:  
“Ken, this place is beautiful!”   
It was. The breeze tousled her hair and the fresh air made her inhale so deeply he thought she would float away. He gazed upon the vast lake, the surface of which reflected the sunlight and shone crystalline shapes as far as the eye could see.   
  
Even the motel was much better-looking. She gave him a quick glance and again rented two rooms. He just nodded. She was right, it was better not to spend too much time together, that’s what leads to attachment. But he still followed her to her room, kissing the back of her neck and pinning her against the wall with his sinewy body. She chuckled, reaching behind her to hug him around the neck:  
  
“Aren’t we gonna go sightseeing?”  
“I am going sightseeing. I want to see the sight of you unraveling on me again.”   
  
He removed just enough clothes to fuck her from behind, pinned against the wall and as she moaned and her knuckles went white against the wall, he wondered if anyone has ever written her a song before. She moaned his name so sweetly as she spasmed around him and it was like fireworks in his brain when he followed.   
  
“Has anyone ever told ya you’re insatiable?” She giggled.  
“Take it as a compliment.”  
“I am.”   
  
The lake was indeed beautiful and after walking for what felt like forever, she broke the serene silence:  
“My grandfather took me fishing often when I was little, during the summer, we went to a lake a little similar to this one. He’d warn me so many times not to touch the perch, as it had prickles, but of course, I did and he had to pull every single prick out and suck the blood out so I don’t get an infection. I wish I’d listened to him from the get-go, it hurt like hell.”   
He laughed:  
“I wasn’t great at listening to grown-ups either when I was a child. Do you still go fishing with your grandfather?”  
Her eyes darkened but her smile didn’t waver:  
“No, he passed away when I was 14.”  
“I’m sorry.”  
“Thanks.”   
  
He didn’t know what to say next and he found himself almost desperately searching for a topic:  
“Would you like to go fishing again?”  
Her eyes lit up as she looked at him:  
“Yes.”   
“Well, then, we’ll see if we can rent the equipment tomorrow, okay?”   
She nodded, smiling that pure smile at him and his heart jumped:  
“You can be really sweet when you want to, ya know?”   
  
Yes, he could. He rarely wanted to, especially when the woman was already sleeping with him. Why did he want to do it now?   
“Oh, you’ll pay me back.”  
“Will I?”  
“Yeah, you never finished what you started in the shower yesterday.”   
She laughed loudly, the mirth washing away all her melancholy:  
“I should’ve known there was an ulterior motive! Sure, pretty boy, it would be my pleasure!”  
She winked and kept on walking.   
  
He thought about their conversations so far. She’d told him endearing details about her past but he still didn’t know much about her. He wanted to and immediately admonished himself. That was not the way this was supposed to go. They were two strangers traveling together and having sex. He didn’t want to be Gackt and she probably didn’t want to be herself either. If he asked anything, he would have to also answer questions in return and he was not ready for that. He knew better than anyone else what problems might arise if you have any sort of a relationship as a celebrity. He needed no problems at the moment, he knew his nerves couldn’t take it.   
  
Another sunset was fast approaching and he subconsciously searched her face for that same mood shift as yesterday and he saw it. It was milder than before but she still seemed sad. Before he could stop himself, he asked:  
  
“The sunset is beautiful, don’t you think?”   
She pursed her lips for a moment and exhaled loudly:  
“Yeah.”  
“You don’t like it?”   
“You could say that.”   
“Why?”  
She ran her fingers through her hair before hugging her knees:  
“I don’t know. Guess I prefer the sunrise.”  
It was an obvious lie but he decided it was not his place to prod further.   
A few moments passed and he could see she tried to lighten the mood again:  
“You like sunsets though?”  
“Not sunsets per se. I like the night.”  
“Why?”   
“It’s quiet. Besides, my eyes are pretty sensitive to bright light.”   
“I see.” She nodded and gazed at the sky:  
“I often work during the night. I find it easier to complete assignments when everybody around me is asleep.”   
  
Everybody around her? She lived with a family. So maybe a husband, children? Do they even know where she is right now? That she is sleeping with a complete stranger?   
Lighting a cigarette, she continued:  
“I live with four friends and they are all obnoxiously loud.”   
  
He realized too late that he let out a sigh of relief and tried to disguise it as clearing his throat. Even he could hear that he failed but she said nothing. Why was he even bothered by her marital status? If she was cheating, that wasn’t his problem!  
  
“Why don’t you move out and live alone?”   
She shrugged and giggled:  
“This way is cheaper. And I don’t like being alone. You?”  
“I do.”   
“You live alone?”   
“At the moment yes. I also used to live with some friends for a while.”   
“And they were loud?” She teased.  
“They were cramping my style.” He chuckled. “Our lifestyles are different.”  
“I see.”   
  
They slipped into silence again and she leaned her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes until it was completely dark.  
“Want to go back?” He asked softly after colder breeze started rolling in.  
“Yes. Let’s. Ya think here we could find a place with donuts?”   
“We can try.”   
She wanted a donut. She wanted to be happy. He didn’t know what to say to that.


	6. Vodka

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo hoo, we're halfway done with the story :D

The donut that made her the happiest was the chocolate-glazed one, with sprinkles and cream filling.   
She savored it in small bites, completely silent, with a smile on her face and he watched like mesmerized over his glass of ice tea. Her eyes shone brighter while enjoying the treat and she licked her chocolate-stained fingers languidly, yet completely innocently and he felt happy, too.   
  
“I haven’t had one of these in years.” She said as she pushed the empty plate away and took a sip of mineral water.   
“So this is a special one.” He teased, realizing he wanted this moment to be special.   
“Every donut is special, pretty boy. C’mon, you must have a special treat, too.”   
“Ramen.”  
“Ramen?”   
“Yes, it’s my favorite dish, I eat it on my birthday.”   
“So you know the feeling when you eat it.”   
“I think I do.”   
  
He was grateful she didn’t ask when his birthday was. As they left the café and headed back to the motel, she lit a cigarette and he found himself wanting to ask her questions. He wanted more anecdotes, more stories, more glimpses into her mind.   
“What was the best place you ever visited?”   
She thought about it long and hard, her lips pursed before she finally answered:  
“A few years ago, I would’ve said the town where my grandparents live as it is special. But, I got many chances to travel due to work and I realized one needs to step away from home to really live. After that, home can be even sweeter. So, I think I will say Thailand. I went there a few months ago and was lucky to get to go sightseeing. The people are among the kindest I have ever met, they treated me almost like a sister and I really felt welcome all the time I spent there.”   
  
He nodded thoughtfully, mulling her words over. She seemed to care more about people than about places and he wondered which of the two was more important to him personally.   
  
“So, Ken doll, how about you?”  
“I don’t know.” He answered honestly. “I guess any place can be good or bad, depending on the time you visit it and your headspace.”   
“Hmm, that’s a good point. So, what about this place, is it good, whaddya think?”   
“I think it is.”   
They locked eyes again and that pure smile washed over him like a silken wrapping, wounding tighter against his chest until his heart jumped and he had to look away.   
  
She fell asleep in his arms that night and it was almost surreal. He liked cats and this reminded him of the situation where a person wouldn’t move so as not to wake a cat sleeping in their lap.   
She looked different when asleep, her features were calm and unreadable and the leg over his hip would occasionally tug and pull him closer, along with her arm around his torso.   
He found he didn’t mind it as he caressed her shoulder, looking at the ceiling. He wasn’t feeling sleepy and for the first time since his vacation started, he thought about his friends. What were they doing right now? He had a feeling he’d come home to a couple of passive-aggressive phone calls from Mana, he’d probably be obviously bothered he couldn’t reach him to share some song ideas before stating his complete disconcert on the matter. He almost chuckled to himself. Typical Mana.   
  
Phone calls he looked forward to more were from Miyavi. He’d only recently met the young guitarist and despite the age gap, they became fast friends. Miyavi was energetic, terminally delightful and nothing ever seemed to throw his optimism off. He quickly began to consider Gackt a brotherly figure and the older musician didn’t mind, being with Miyavi would almost inevitably lift one’s spirits.   
He glanced at Alex’s head on his shoulder. She and Miyavi were indeed very similar. He even had an unsophisticated accent and dialect.   
  
What were people like them seeing in him? Gackt was level-headed and usually rather quiet, his humor dry and sarcastic, making most people think he is cold, rude or even plain stupid.   
Sure, many women, and quite a few men found him very attractive, but attractiveness can only go so far. He sighed and Alex hugged him tighter.   
After all, this is supposed to only be based on attractiveness, right. She probably just had the hots for him and the situation was perfect for them to just be friends with benefits.   
Once their vacation time is up, they’d go their separate ways and never see or hear from each other again. That thought, although likely factual, was bitter and he inhaled her scent, rewinding his mind to what they did a couple of hours ago to try and wash it away with that sweetness.   
  
He never went fishing before. Thankfully, Alex has, so she set up all the equipment by herself, showing him only as much as he needed to know to be able to fish today. She seemed to know he was not interested in fishing, so she kept it brief, giving him thankful looks every time she’d finish an explanation.   
The breeze was pleasant as they sat there, waiting. And waiting. And waiting.   
In the end, they caught absolutely nothing, but he learned that she has seen all Rocky movies at least 3 times, she almost got a cringey tribal tattoo when she was 16, and that she could knit.   
All the stories she’d tell him were endearing yet impersonal and he wished to know so much more.   
They returned their equipment well before sunset, he lied about being hungry before he could even think about it. He just didn’t want to see her sad face again.   
  
That evening, as they were naked in bed, smoking, she said:  
“Hey Ken, I was thinking.”   
“Yeah?”  
“Whaddya say about scouting the place for some nightlife, maybe there’s a gig or something?”  
  
He thought about it. This was a good opportunity to catch a glimpse of the local scene, assuming there was one. But in the back of his mind, he wondered if someone might recognize him. That was kind of vain, the chances of him being known outside of Asia were pretty slim, but he was slightly paranoid.   
So he agreed and a couple of hours later, they were at a club that seemed promising. The venue was not large and the interior was all red brick and black leather booths, the stage small and the bar long, stretching through the middle of the club.   
The music that was currently playing was some popular heavy metal as the local band on stage was setting their equipment up, preparing to start the gig. The audience had already started to gather and Gackt was relieved to notice that, other than the typical looks people would give a foreigner, nobody paid him any mind.   
Alex, on the other hand, was very much noticed and gawked at by several men. He chuckled to himself, pulling her closer by the waist and she giggled at him before standing on her tiptoes to say in his ear:  
  
“What are you drinking, pretty boy? I’ll go to the bar and you can find us a place to sit.”   
“Vodka, please.”   
  
She kissed him on the cheek before making her way to the bar and he soon lost sight of her in the crowd. Looking for an empty booth, he noticed a beautiful woman looking at him. She was wearing a short black dress that accentuated her curves and had long dark hair. She smiled and waved at him and under different circumstances, he would have already made his way to her but tonight he was with Alex.   
It was weird, though. This long-haired woman was closer to his type and he would say objectively more beautiful. Yet he didn’t feel bummed at all, quite the opposite, he was perfectly happy with his company. He frowned at the thought and averted his gaze from the woman, finally noticing a booth that a couple was just vacating and claiming it as soon as they left.   
He searched his pockets for his cigarettes and noticed the long-haired woman approaching.   
She elegantly slid into the booth across from him and her red lips formed a sexy smile:  
  
“Hello. I noticed you from across the room and just wanted to talk to you. Hope you don’t mind.”   
  
His gaze went from her big dark eyes straight to her cleavage. She was not wearing a bra and her bosom was fairly generous and he found himself stumbling over his words before he forced himself to look her in the face again. Alex would be back any second, and even though they never mentioned anything about exclusivity or not flirting with others, he found himself unwilling to upset her like this.   
  
“Actually, my…” What was she to him?! “…friend will be back any moment…”   
“Oh?” The woman tilted her head. “Your friend?”   
He could see she was confused and realized he would be, too. Since when was a friend an obstacle for talking to other people, how could he explain this without sounding like a moron? Subconsciously, he glanced around the room, looking for Alex and he almost sighed in relief when he saw her approaching with drinks. What took her so long!?   
  
To his immense surprise, she grinned at both of them, laying his glass in front of him, still holding hers.  
The long-haired woman’s face shone with understanding and she was already getting up to leave, mumbling an apology, but Alex gestured for her to stay:   
  
“No, please, don’t leave on my account, I just brought my buddy here a drink. I’ll see ya later, Ken!”   
With a wave and a friendly nod to the woman, she left before Gackt even had a chance to stop her.   
The woman was perplexed yet again and he looked at her, feeling uncomfortable:  
“I’m sorry about that, she must have seen some other friends around here.”   
He lied quickly but the woman seemed to believe it, nodding:  
“As long as I am not the third wheel…”  
  
Was she? Why did Alex do that? Over the woman’s shoulder, he saw her talking to a tall, long-haired blonde man and his eyes narrowed. She was laughing and the guy was leaning closer and closer. So, that’s why. Two can play that game.   
  
“Of course not.” He gave his full attention to the woman now and smiled at her.  
“Name’s Ken, nice to meet you.”   
  
He spent the better part of the evening with the long-haired woman, doing his best not to search the room with his gaze, but as the amount of alcohol in his blood increased, he found himself straying from that rule. Alex was nowhere to be found. He hadn’t seen her in a while.   
The woman suggested for them to go outside for some fresh air and his spiteful tipsy spirit decided to take the bait and soon, they were making out. She tasted different than Alex and she felt different under his fingers, her form more familiar and her scent sweet and enticing.   
  
“Your place or mine?” She asked as they pulled apart, her lipstick slightly smeared.   
He froze at the sight. It was as if a spell was broken. She was almost too beautiful and he would be an idiot not to accept this offer. Yet he simply didn’t feel like taking it anymore.  
  
“I’m sorry, I should get going.” Yes. He was an idiot. A complete moron.  
The woman nodded, disappointment evident on her face:  
“I knew it.”   
“Excuse me?”  
She smiled a mirthless smile:  
“You’re in love with that girl, aren’t you?”   
“What?!” He realized instantly he reacted too strongly and it all clicked into place.   
Of course he was. Like a complete moron he was, he fell hard and fast over just a few days. He fell completely in love with that impossible, tomboyish, strange, unsophisticated woman. How? Was he going crazy, was this the vacation-fling syndrome gone bad due to his recent breakdown, maybe he was still a little confused emotionally, maybe it was nothing. But it was not nothing. It was growing in his chest and it was a matter of time before it would spill out for everyone to see.   
  
The woman chuckled and waved at him, turning to leave when he failed to give her an answer:  
“It was nice meeting you, Ken. Have a good night.”   
  
Gackt was left alone, gazing at the moon on the deserted parking lot. Where was Alex? He wondered if she went back to the motel or if she was still at the club.   
He went back inside to search for her, cigarette in hand. No dice. She was nowhere to be found and he started thinking about that blonde guy from earlier. Maybe she went somewhere with him.   
It made him angry and he decided to go back to the room and sleep, even though he knew he probably won’t be able to.   
Back at the motel, as he was about to unlock his door, he froze. He could hear Alex moaning from her room. And not only that, there was a male voice, too.   
He felt like kicking the door down and beating the guy to a bloody pulp.   
He had no right to. He was not in a relationship with Alex, she could sleep with whomever she wanted to. Although he wished she only wanted to sleep with him.   
That was his answer, though. She didn’t seem to care.   
He glanced at his watch. It was almost half past 4 in the morning.   
He still had time to pack.   



	7. Halogen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo... I have this theory that Miyavi is an angel of wholesomeness sent to Earth by Bob Ross himself to make people feel all warm and fuzzy inside. I love the man.   
> And yes, the plot of this chapter is probably super cliche but I am fine with it, cliches work. :D

He was again grateful he didn’t bring much luggage with him as he finished packing, taking another look at his watch. There was still plenty of time before the motel receptionist would arrive and he could check out. He took a long shower.   
He would find a station and go to Budapest, get on a plane and go… where? Should he go back to Japan and just spend the rest of his vacation time there? He had three more weeks to kill. Maybe he should just go home and write some songs, maybe start planning the next tour.   
  
The skin on his back was slightly raw under hot water and he ran his fingers through his hair. It will be alright, the nail marks would fade soon, he was always a quick healer.   
  
Taking another final look around to make sure he didn’t forget anything, he finally stepped out of the room, locking it, as the blonde man was leaving Alex’s room at the same time, he slipped out quietly, making Gackt believe Alex was asleep.  
He glanced at the man, hatred pouring out of his every pore. He ruined everything, he was supposed to ride with her to the ends of the world during these three weeks, but because of this tall, burly beast of a man, he was forced to acknowledge his feelings and promptly run away from them.  
Nothing good could come from Alex, he realized. Still, it was bitter in his mouth.   
  
The man nodded at him in greeting as they both walked down the stairs. He could still feel Alex’s vanilla and skin scent emanating from him and it made him sick.   
“You’re up early, dude.”  The man had a deep voice with a strong Hungarian accent. Gackt scowled.  
“Yes.”   
“Travelling, huh?” Why was this bastard trying to initiate stupid small talk? With that smug “I just had sex” look on his face, he was inviting Gackt’s shin to his face.   
“Shut up.” He growled at the man and he looked at him in surprise:  
“Sorry, dude.” He raised his hands apologetically before hastening his step to leave ahead of Gackt and the musician gave his broad back another dirty look.   
  
The bus ride was long but he slept through most of it, waking up at some point and instinctively touching the seat next to him before realizing nobody was there. Alex was not there.   
He didn’t even leave a message for her with the receptionist. She had no way of contacting him anyway, he was not worried. Let her think whatever she wanted, he’d be damned if he cared.   
  
******  
He busied himself with the gym before even daring to sit and write. It was scary to write with how restless he was being so he just exercised and drank, cigarette butts in the ashtray the only indication that time was passing.   
He couldn’t write, not yet. Her face was always in his mind and he would just take another swig of wine, trying to drown it out to no avail. He threw out the body wash with the vanilla scent he had and he changed all of his bedding that for some reason smelled like her.   
  
Two weeks later, just as he thought another breakdown is approaching as he woke up with a splitting headache due to a hangover, a doorbell rang, making him wince. Who was it now, he refused contact with anyone these past weeks.   
Barefoot, he stumbled to open the door and send whoever it was packing with a bunch of cuss words but when he swung the door open, he was met with a wide pierced grin and a tuft of long, messy hair:  
  
“Oniisan!” Miyavi waved energetically, oblivious to the fact his loud greeting made Gackt narrow his eyes in pain.   
“Meev-kun.” He responded unenthusiastically, letting the younger man into the apartment.   
Shoving his hands in his pockets, Miyavi entered the apartment with a low whistle:  
“Damn, Oniisan, you have to open a window when you smoke as much as you do! Did you have a party here last night?”   
“No. Can you keep your voice down, Meev? My head is killing me.”  
Miyavi made a grimace not unlike Homer Simpson when he says “doh!” before smiling again, his voice almost a whisper:  
“Sorry, Gaku, I should have known you’re hung over. Would you like me to make you a cup of coffee?”   
“Sure. Help yourself to anything you want, I’ll just go take a shower.”   
  
This was a common occurrence, Miyavi would come over and make coffee or even food just like Gackt’s kitchen was his own. He didn’t mind and today was the day when he was grateful he did that, he really needed that coffee.   
He came back from the bathroom to find that the young musician had even taken out some trash and opened a window, placing his feet on the now clean coffee table as he sat on the sofa.   
Gackt took the other mug Miyavi placed on the table and sat next to his friend. He could feel that Miyavi was simply dying to say something and it amused him, he always pretended not to notice to see how long it would take for Miyavi to burst with excitement. This time, it didn’t take long at all:  
  
“Gaku, are you okay? I heard you went to Europe and then came back home after only a few days, did something happen?”   
“I didn’t like it.” He lied. Miyavi arched an eyebrow, his expression concerned:  
“Did you get mugged or something?”  
“You could say that.” Mugged of his heart, yes. He kept it vague. Miyavi nodded, realizing Gackt didn’t want to talk about it:  
“Well, you know you can always count on me, right?”   
“Yeah. Thank you, Meev-kun.”   
  
The younger musician grinned his signature smile and tapped Gackt on the shoulder encouragingly:  
“You’ll be fine, bro. Hang in there. Besides, you are very lucky!”   
His voice picked up in excitement. There it was. This was why he came in the first place.  
“How so?” He played dumb.  
“Well, your friend Miyavi here has just the thing in mind to make you have some fun!”  
“I’m not going paintballing with you, Meev, that’s just silly.”  
“No! I only suggested it one time and it was a JOKE!” Miyavi lied passionately. He had pestered all of his friends with the idea for months before Uruha and Reita finally agreed to come with.   
“No, see, what I had in mind was something else. I have this online friend, you see…”  
“Beware, those are usually fat men in their forties.”   
“Ha-ha. So you’re online, huh?”   
“Insolent brat.” Gackt chuckled.  
“I love you too. No, my friend is a girl, a pretty cute one at that, but that’s not all. She is the frontwoman of an amazing German band and she recently emailed me saying they will have a few gigs in Tokyo in about three weeks. Apparently, their label is a subsidiary of Sony and they have a chance to make it here, seeing how they’re pretty visual kei anyway, you know. So, she asked me if I would come and told me to bring any friends I want. Also, I’m excited, this would be my first time to see her in person.”   
“How did you even meet a German girl online?”  
“She joined my fan club and you know how I actually respond to fan mail? Well, her e-mail was so funny and sweet I decided I wanted to talk to her more!”   
“That’s rather careless.”   
“Oh c’mon, what’s the worst thing that could happen?”  
“Anything you share with her being sold to a tabloid?”  
“What kind of things do you think I’m sharing?”  
“Viruses mostly.”   
“Oh, I missed your mean words, Oniisan.”   
“So, what’s the name of this band, have I heard of it?”  
“I don’t know, the name is Violet Tendencies.”   
“Doesn’t ring a bell.”  
“They’re really good, she’s a slapper, just like me but their music is a little weirder, they almost sound like a creepy carnival. Kinda like your former band!” Miyavi teased.   
“Creepy carnival. Seriously, kid, do you WANT to be smacked?”   
They both laughed.   
“Alright, Meev, I’ll go to the gig with you, but don’t blame me when this girl of yours falls head over heels for me!”   
“Nah, she’ll just say you remind her of her dad and bring you slippers and a newspaper.”   
“I think you mean Daddy and a belt and rope.”   
“You’re all talk for someone who only recently fell asleep during 8 o’clock news!”   
  
Their playful bickering lightened Gackt’s spirits, he missed Miyavi and he felt sorry for avoiding him for two weeks. Besides, the younger man had a point, it will be good for him to hear some new music and get his mind off of all that was bothering him.  
  
******  
  
He soon noticed billboards and posters for Violet Tendencies, their single on sale in CD shops.  
The posters were interesting, 4 men and one girl all wearing purple silken outfits resembling kimonos, with some cyberpunk elements on them. The men indeed looked pretty visual kei, their hairstyles similar. But the woman’s face was obscured in all posters. Her hair was slicked back and she wore futuristic glasses and a mouth mask similar to those used in samurai armor.   
In some posters, she had a purple laser sword in hand. The aesthetic was appealing but he didn’t want to purchase their CD, wishing to be surprised with their music at the gig.   
  
Finally, they made their way to the venue on the night of the concert. It was a decent place, it could hold about a thousand people and the place was full. He wondered if Violet Tendencies was really getting popular or if most of the people were somehow coaxed to come for promotional purposes.   
Miyavi was basically hopping with excitement. They arrived somewhat early in order to meet with the band before the show. A member of security ushered them to the dressing rooms and Gackt saw he led them to a door that said Sascha on it. Before he could ponder on it, Miyavi knocked and he heard a voice yell:  
“Come in!” in broken Japanese. The voice was loud and very flamboyant and Miyavi wasted no time, entering before Gackt:  
“Hey, Sascha-chan!”   
“Meeeeeeeev! You really came!”  
He heard the loud thump of a woman running and hugging Miyavi, the guitarist laughing wholeheartedly and lifting her off the ground, making an adorable sound as he squeezed her. Gackt just smiled to himself. This was the type of greeting that seemed so up Meev’s alley, yet Japanese women never did anything like this.   
“Sascha-chan, I’m so happy to meet you, finally.” Miyavi put the woman down, gesturing toward Gackt:  
“I brought a friend, hope you don’t mind?”   
“Of course not! Any friend of yours is…”  
  
Miyavi finally moved from between them, letting Gackt pass into the room and his eyes locked with Alex’s.   



	8. Pills

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it's been a long time since I've updated, sorry.  
> Honestly, I considered ending the story here, but there will be one more chapter, just to tie up some loose ends.  
> Thank you ^_^

She looked different with makeup on. She was already halfway in costume, a purple silken kimono-like robe with an asymmetrical hem, flowing almost down to her calves in the back but short in the front, revealing dark purple leather pants. Her hair was black now, with some cybergoth-looking extensions forming a large ponytail in the back. Her forehead was painted black and her eyeliner gradated from black to purple which was smeared like paint splatters over her temples. On her feet, she was still sporting a comfortable pair of pink house slippers, which, Gackt noted, had bunny ears.  
She also wore bright purple contacts and her eyes widened for a second upon seeing Gackt before she forced a pretty genuine-looking smile, but he could see a hint of bitterness in it. She extended her hand and as the neckline of her robe shifted, he could still see a yellow trace of a hickey he left on her. She was not a quick healer.  
It made his heart ache but his face gave away nothing:  
  
“It is an honor to meet you, Gackt-san, you’re a great inspiration.”  
  
She knew who he was? All this time? Wait, Miyavi didn’t tell her, did he? She knew. All this time he thought she was a terrible liar but she’d lied to him from day one so perfectly.  
He awkwardly accepted her hand, doing his best to keep his cool so Miyavi wouldn’t notice anything.  
“Thank you very much, it’s nice to meet you too.”  
He tried to think of any possible excuse to run away from this. She was so different yet completely the same as he remembered her and he was not sure he could be in the same room with her. What was he thinking anyway? Why would he run away, again? She seemed to not be shaken by this at all, why would he be, why would she win at this entire thing?  
  
Alex, no, Sascha smiled before striding over to the mini bar, gesturing toward the sofa:  
“Take a seat, guys, whatcha drinking?”  
Miyavi was talking like he had verbal diarrhea as usual, questioning her about everything from her flight to the chord progression in that one song to whether she knew all the obscure little restaurants he liked. She seemed entirely happy talking with him, all the muscles in her face visibly relaxing as his charm washed over her like a warm blanket. Such was Miyavi, he just made people happy.  
Unlike Gackt, who couldn’t even keep a fucking friend with benefits from fucking another guy for one whole week. He shook his head, forcing himself to stop that train of thought and focus on the conversation he was starting to feel like a third wheel in.  
  
“So whaddya say? We can make a whole day out of it, I take you to Disneyland and then you go have a paintball war with me, sounds good?” Miyavi asked excitedly.  
“God, Meev, didn’t you said you were joking about paintball?” Gackt interjected, figuring teasing his friend and throwing him off-balance was the best way to get all the awkwardness out of his system. He couldn’t talk to Alex directly.  
“Well, I lied! I know it’s too much of a youthful pastime for you, but it is fun! If I left it to you, you’d probably take our guests birdwatching or fishing or clipping out coupons or whatever it is that people your age do!”  
Miyavi missed how both Alex and Gackt locked eyes for a brief moment as he mentioned fishing before Alex forced out a chuckle:  
“Oh c’mon, Meev, fishing can be fun, too!”  
“Seriously?” Miyavi sighed in mock disbelief: “Whose side are you on?” He playfully poked her shoulder.  
“Ow! Okay, okay, I take it back, paintball is the best, fishing sucks!”  
  
Satisfied with his little victory, Miyavi turned to face Gackt:  
“Jokes aside, do you have any ideas on what we can show Violet Tendencies while they’re in the city?”  
“You could take them to Shibuya, food in Hachiko is great, for example.”  
“I could take them? Don’t you want to come, too?”  
  
For a split second, he looked at Alex:  
  
“I think I will be too busy.”  
He realized too late that he was searching for her reply as she stood up and went to the minibar, speaking with her back to them:  
“I’d like you to come with us, Gackt-san, but if you’re busy… we would hate if you had to dash in the middle of our little trip.”  
Was she really doing that?! Without thinking, he replied:  
“Oh, I’m sure you can find many things more interesting than me.”  
  
Her back was still turned but he could see a small slump of her shoulders and his enraged brain reveled in the fact he managed to hurt her.  
Who did she think she was? Jabbing him like that, as if it was his fault that she decided to fuck some random guy?! Was he not enough for her? Did she think he’d just stand there and let himself be made a complete idiot?  
He felt like he could punch a wall.  
  
Miyavi was looking at both of them, confused but still oblivious and Gackt was grateful as the young guitarist spoke:  
  
“Okay, okay, we can still plan that around everybody’s schedule, right?”  
  
He gave Gackt a dirty look that the older musician knew meant “be nice” and for a split second, in his mind, he was punching Miyavi instead of a wall.  
The door suddenly opened and the rest of the Violet Tendencies burst in and pretty soon, the room was another cackle of voices and laughter and Gackt just wanted to go home and drink, instead of sitting here, being asked dumb questions and patted on the shoulder by these guys who apparently were huge fans.  
  
  
The concert was nice. Gackt couldn’t enjoy it. Even as he watched mesmerized the way Alex dominated the stage. She was full of energy, bursting in smiles, putting the crowd on fire as she danced with that banged up old Telecaster of hers, as the purple fabric swayed around her body and the veins in her neck standing out as she sang her heart out.  
She was a natural born entertainer, he realized. Her stage presence was so large he almost felt it towered over his own. He knew how it must be. Everything else was shut off from her mind at that moment and only the music existed. She was truly free at that moment.  
Her voice was unique. Raspy at one moment and clear the next. She put a lot of herself into it. That’s how she probably got sick, he realized; she overworked it.  
  
He barely listened to the songs, a strange sadness overcoming him. The concert would soon come to an end and as much as he knew it was for the best, there was something that was making him sad when he thought this was the last time he would see her.  
  
“Thank you, Tokyo!” Alex shouted after yet another song, her face beaming with an exhausted smile.  
“For our last number, here’s one yet unpublished! I call it… Pretty Boy.”  
  
Gackt’s face froze. As the opening riffs for the song rang through the hall, he caught her gaze for a split second before she focused her entire being into the music.  
  
  
_Vastness of the open road of freedom_  
Dust in my eyes  
Nothing is as simple as it seems  
The heart cries  
  
Can you still hear the echoes from your cage?  
Even as we lie that we are free?  
Can you understand our leash is just long?  
Can you please stop looking at me?  
  
No, I cannot give you answers  
I would gladly do it if I knew  
No, I cannot make you a promise  
But I am mesmerized by you  
  
Pretty boy, stay with me tonight  
Pretty boy and I will stay with you  
And when we say goodbye at the end of the road  
Forget all about me, pretty boy  
Just focus on you  
  
Your eyes can tell me more than you think  
They’re like mine  
Nothing is as simple as it seems  
You’ll be fine  
  
  
Can you still hear the cries of the void?  
Even as I lie I’m alright  
Can you understand why I am pretending  
Please, don’t look at me now!  
  
No, I cannot give you answers  
I would gladly make them all be “yes”  
No, I cannot make you a promise  
You pull my heart out of my chest  
  
Pretty boy, stay with me tonight  
Pretty boy and I will stay with you  
And when we say goodbye at the end of the road  
Forget all about me, pretty boy  
We are not the sunrise  
  
You’re a doll I never wanted to break  
Pretty boy  
And I’m a chance you never want to take  
Pretty boy  
But will you stay with me tonight?  
  
  


* * *

  
  
THREE DAYS LATER  
  
Clutching a paper bag in his hand, his other one lingered in mid-air.  
He took a deep breath, finally knocking under the “Sascha” plate and as he heard her say “come in” and turned the doorknob, he knew there’d be no turning back from this point.  
He had no idea why he came here today. After that song. There was something headstrong about him, he figured, something that didn’t want to get a song and be done with it. He wanted to finally clear the air with her and have everything out in the open, no matter the cost.  
  
She turned on her little swivel chair, her makeup halfway done, she was still in her robe, not having dressed up for the gig yet. He came really early. Good.  
  
Her eyes widened in surprise as she saw him. Silence.  
He finally outstretched her hand and gave her the paper bag wordlessly.  
Still blinking in shock, she slowly accepted it and an entire turmoil broke on her face as she opened it and saw her favorite donut inside.  
She looked up at him, her eyes harboring equal parts anger and tenderness:  
  
“Why?”  
“It makes you happy.”  
“Why does my happiness matter to you?”  
  
He paused, finally locking eyes with her, his chin jutting up stubbornly:  
“Because I am in love with you. Baka.”  
  
Tossing the bag on her vanity and pinching the root of her nose, she walked up to him.  
Those blonde eyelashes fluttered as she was trying to hold back tears:  
  
“Do you know why I hate sunsets? And why I don’t drink?”  
  
His brows furrowed in surprise as she walked towards another chair, rummaging through her bag as she spoke, her back to him:  
  
“My husband died during a sunset two years ago.” She made a pregnant pause, hiding her face as she tossed a small box his direction:  
“And alcohol doesn’t mesh well with these.”  
Prozac. He kept blinking, his mouth agape as she went on, biting back tears:  
  
“You have been at my gig. Have you seen my heart out there? That’s half of it. The other half died two years ago. I have nothing to give you, pretty boy. I wish I had. More realistically, I wish you fucked that woman in the club and kept riding with me. Why did you have to fall in love with me?”  
  
Her lower lip trembled and he took a step toward her and froze. He couldn’t.  
“I don’t know.” He said, barely loud enough for her to hear.  
“I’m sorry.” She managed and he didn’t dare look her in the eyes to check if she meant it.  
He had no idea she was this broken. He knew there was nothing he could do for her, not now and probably not ever. He was not what she wanted. She wanted someone who would never be back.  
  
So he just let the hand he’d raised to cup her cheek fall and left the room quietly.


	9. Sunrise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a sucker for happy endings so here's one. 
> 
> Btw, halfway through actually writing this story, I discovered Gackt has a song that kinda perfectly describes the feeling I wanted to depict with this entire fic. Well... KINDA. I'm more optimistic than he is, apparently :D Here's the song:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1SsY3Tz6YjE&list=RD1SsY3Tz6YjE&start_radio=1

TWO YEARS LATER:  
  
She moaned his name loudly, her fingers in his hair, legs tightly around his waist as she reached her climax and he followed, her spasms milking him for the third time that night.   
She kissed him breathlessly and he gripped her tighter, returning the kiss, hoping he could steal her earnestness along with her breath, hoping that after this kiss, he could look her in the eyes and see a woman he loved.   
  
He didn’t. He would give it another day. Another week. Another month. She was a lovely woman, gorgeous, smart and kind. He had to love her. He would be crazy not to.   
He was crazy. As he gently laid her on the bed and went to take a shower, he asked himself for the millionth time what was wrong with him.   
They have been together for seven months already and he was certain she was the one when he met her. She had absolutely everything he ever wanted in a woman. She had to be the one.   
Yet, it all felt so empty. So sleek, so easy. Wasn’t it supposed to be easy when you meet your soulmate? Wasn’t it supposed to be smooth sailing?   
  
At first, he thought he was just sabotaging himself. He thought he needed some time to relax with her.   
Yet he never did. She was perfect. He didn’t love her.   
  
Sitting under the hot water, the back of his head against the wall, he let a wave of guilt wash over him again. It wasn’t fair to her. He should tell her. Yet, as time went by and as she seemed happier and happier with him every day, his courage dissipated and he couldn’t.   
He sighed. Maybe he was clueless. Maybe he DID love her, but he simply didn’t truly know what love felt like.   
  
He returned from the shower thinking he would find her asleep but apparently, she didn’t feel sleepy as she sat on the bed, propped on a bunch of cushions, reading a magazine.   
Drying his hair with a soft towel, he glanced at her:  
  
“Not sleepy yet?”  
“I was waiting for my turn in the shower. Didn’t want to interrupt you.”   
  
She looked at him with a smile, lowering the magazine.   
  
“Hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long. Mind if I flip through this while you shower?”  
  
He pointed at the magazine and she nodded:  
  
“Of course, feel free to. I’ll be right back.”   
  
As the bathroom door closed behind her, he made himself comfortable, grabbing the magazine and he froze. A familiar face was staring at him from the cover.

Gackt thought it was over. Two years have passed. He hasn’t thought about her in a long time. And yet, as he saw her photograph, his heart skipped a beat.   
Her hair was longer now. Long and ashy blonde, the tips purple.   
The caption read “Sascha: Tendencies No Longer Violet: Solo career and personal growth”   
  
He shouldn’t read that interview. He really shouldn’t.

Q: The news of you leaving Violet Tendencies was quite a shock. Can you tell our readers more about it?  
S: We have been together for 7 years and during those 7 years, we have all grown and changed in our own ways. Ways that are now simply too far apart for us to continue working together. We are still close friends and I will always wish for nothing but the best for them.  
  
Typical diplomatic answer. She probably realized she could do better by herself. Like he did.   
  
Q: Your first solo album will be hitting the shelves in a month, your first single, “Tunnel”, already out. What can people expect from the album, what was the process behind it and what does it mean to you?  
S: My album, “Liberation”, has actually been in the works for about three years. No, the title doesn’t have anything to do with me leaving VT (laughs), it is about something personal. We all have problems, difficulties, hurdles we try to overcome. Overcoming them feels liberating, doesn’t it?  
I decided I would release “Liberation” when I conquer my demons. That time has come.  
  
She mentioned a liberating feeling during their vacation. As they looked at the stars. Did she feel that moment was slightly lessening her grief?  
  
Q: You are quite big here in Japan, many fans, both Japanese and foreign, say your style is heavily visual-kei influenced. Do you agree with that?  
S: Absolutely. I grew up listening to visual kei artists, my father worked in Japan at the time and he would often buy me albums, I was mesmerized by this style and decided I want to try and be that cool (laughs) although I don’t know if it’s working.  
  
Q: Well, judging by how great the ticket sales for your Japanese promo tour are doing, I would say it is! You have played in Japan with VT before. What do you think about the Japanese audience?  
S: They are full of passion which feeds me and makes me want to deliver the best show I can. I am very much looking forward to playing in Japan again.

Q: Good luck, we will definitely be there! Now, many fans are asking about your private life, especially romantic involvement. Are you seeing anyone at the moment?  
S: (laughs) Yes, a pizza boy! That’s how busy I am right now, the only man I can regularly see is the pizza boy.

Q: Thank you for taking the time to talk to me. Is there anything you wish to tell your fans?  
S: Thank you, too. Yes, to my fans: I love you guys, you are my heroes. I am looking forward to seeing you at my concert. Be well!   
  
Q: And if you want to get a signed photo of Sascha, make sure you tune in…  
  
Gackt stopped reading, a strange feeling tugging at his heartstrings. She conquered her demons, she said. He felt happy for her, that must be it. But it wasn’t happy he was feeling. His mouth was dry and there was an uncomfortable knot in his stomach. He could feel her scent in his nostrils.   
Why was this happening? It has been so long, he forgot about her, didn’t he?   
He had a girlfriend now, a girlfriend who loved him, who wasn’t using him. A girlfriend who didn’t come with baggage, who was perfect. Yet, now, as she was a couple of meters away, he was thinking about another woman.   
  
He tossed the magazine aside, disgusted with himself. Just as he decided to pretend to sleep so as not to let Ryoko notice anything, she emerged from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around her head.   
  
He wasn’t imagining the vanilla scent. It was coming from Ryoko. She must have started using a new shower gel. It annoyed him. Why that one, of all the ones that existed?  
Why the only one that made him feel like a piece of shit?  
  
She settled next to him in bed, deciding not to disturb his feigned sleep.   
Every second felt like torture to Gackt. He waited to hear her breathing settle into slumber and as he did, memories of that hellhole motel started flooding him. That squeaky bed. The horrible shampoo. Her soft skin under his fingers. Her nails down his back. Her lips all over him. The warmth of her.   
  
He left Ryoko’s apartment as soon as she fell asleep, leaving a bullshit note saying he had an early recording session in the morning.  
The cool air that greeted him outside did nothing for his heated head.

It was almost dawn, he noticed on the parking lot.   
So he stood there, mesmerized, without any idea why. For what was probably the first time in his life, he watched the sunrise, his throat constricted and his fingertips itching. Why was he watching it? He had no idea. But as warm peachy and burnt orange sunrays permeated the air and the clouds cleared in hues of an impressionist painting, he started humming a melody to himself. The exact lyrics long forgotten, but the song still made him weak in the chest and knees. Pretty boy.  
  


* * *

  
  
Sascha was sitting in a soft white bathrobe, coffee mug in hand, on the balcony of her rented Tokyo apartment, surrounded by beautiful decorative plants.

The sunrise always made her happy, but today, she was restless. She told herself it was just nerves about the upcoming promotional events she had to attend that day, but she knew that wasn’t it.   
Familiar with anxiety, she did her best to calmly analyze what was making her nervous but couldn’t decipher it. As she slowly sipped on her hot beverage, she hummed a tune half-heartedly. The name of the song was lingering just outside the grasp of her brain and with a sigh, she gave up trying to recall and got up from her chair, stepping toward the railing, admiring the beautiful hues in the sky.   
Then, just as if her gaze was magnetically pulled down, she glanced at the parking lot in the middle of the building block, many expensive cars neatly lined all over it.   
Was someone standing next to a silver Porsche, just looking at the sky?   
She was too high up to see clearly, but yes, the person was leaning on what she assumed was their car, just looking up, a tuft of dark hair and a white jacket all that she could see.   
She chuckled to herself. Well, this guy was up early. And he was obviously just as much of a sucker for sunrises as she was. She hoped it would bring him peace of mind and make him have a great day.   
  
Sunrise. Since she arrived in Japan less than a week ago, every sunrise was… different than in Europe. She would always hum long-forgotten tunes and her foot would always tap a restless rhythm on the ground. She tried to push the thoughts aside, but every sunrise in Japan made her wish to observe it with the person she thought she never cared about in the first place.   
Part of her still couldn’t believe she actually met the man. He was her favorite artist ever since she was a teenager when she listened to his band almost religiously.   
And then, one day, in Hungary of all places, she just… met him.   
  
And he was just a man. Not THE Gackt, just a man. She was supposed to not care. But he was… kind. He was fun. He was unobtrusive, for which she was grateful for.   
She had no idea why she slept with that blonde guy from the club at first. But now she knew. She wanted to drive Gackt away. She was confused about him, he was making her shattered heartbeat in cacophonies she never thought would be possible for her again, not after Andreas passed.   
She was utterly convinced she would never love again. And then Gackt challenged that belief and it terrified her. She couldn’t love him. She would lose him, too, and then what?   
She would definitely lose him by overwhelming him with her brokenness. It was not his duty to piece her back together, she couldn’t ask that of him.  
  
So she pushed him away as hard as she possibly could. Him actually leaving broke her heart all over again, even though that WAS what she wanted. She couldn’t count how many times she cried afterward.   
But, as months passed, she realized she had to pick herself up and keep going. Sascha was never a quitter, no matter how hard things got. She still believed in the light at the end of the tunnel. Even if she never knew love again, she was certain time would heal her somewhat. Maybe enough to find happiness in other things again.   
  
It has been almost a year since she was off anti-depressants. Some days were still harder than others, but she considered herself happy nowadays. But being in Japan was tougher than she thought.   
The new day was born completely, its umbilical cord with the night completely severed as the sun broke free of the horizon.   
She glanced down. The man on the parking lot got into his car and drove away, leaving an empty spot that for some reason, lingered in Sascha’s mind long after.   
  
She went back inside to wash her mug and prepare a light breakfast. Her hair was still damp and she decided she would leave it to air dry completely, the beachy waves the only look she felt energized enough to go for. After eating some toast, she got dressed and chuckled over her annoying habit of never matching her socks in her drawers so she wore a black one and a grey one today.   
She double-checked if she had all she needed with her as she left the apartment, a jittery spring still in her step. Glancing at her watch, she sighed in relief. It was a couple of minutes past 9, she would be in time for that radio appearance she had that day. After that, lunch with her manager and then…   
The elevator she was alone in stopped before reaching the ground floor and a beautiful woman entered.   
Sascha barely stopped herself from staring. The woman had gorgeous full lips and high cheekbones, her straight black hair down to her waist. She was wearing a pretty, floral maxi dress and her purse was expensive. She felt a vanilla scent on her, not unlike the one she was wearing just before the woman’s eyes widened in surprise:  
  
“Oh gosh…” She quietly exclaimed; a smile on her face that seemed to light up the elevator car:  
“Excuse me, please, but you are Sascha, aren’t you?”

Her voice was as pleasant as soft summer rain and Sascha subconsciously cleared her throat, willing her own rougher one to sound sleeker:  
  
“Uhm… yes.”   
The woman clasped her small hands together, giggling joyfully:  
“I am a BIG fan. I’m so sorry to impose on you like this, but… may I get your autograph?”   
  
Sascha smiled. It always made her happy to meet a fan.  
  
“Of course.” She accepted the notepad and pen the woman had offered her, clicking the pen on:  
“Whom should I address it to?”  
“Oh. Ryoko, please.”   
  
Sascha scribbled “To Ryoko from Sascha, you’re my hero.”, something she always wrote, in her chaotic, pointy handwriting before handing the items back to Ryoko with both hands and a respectful nod.   
Ryoko beamed again, bowing:  
“Thank you so much! I cannot wait for your concert, I preordered Liberation as soon as it was possible.”  
“Thank YOU.” Sascha beamed back and, in an uncharacteristic urge, pulled out two backstage passes from her own Demonia coffin bag:  
“Take these, please. Bring a friend, I’d be happy to talk with you more.”   
  
Ryoko’s eyes widened in disbelief:  
“Oh, you are too kind, thank you so much! I really hope my boyfriend will be free that night, he’d love you!”   
  
Sascha giggled despite the unexpected small tug of disappointment in her chest. Of course a woman this gorgeous would be taken. Oh well:   
“I have a feeling he’d clear his entire schedule if you asked him to.”   
She remarked semi-flirtatiously and Ryoko blushed, another innocent beam on her face:  
“I sure hope so. He already went to work today; I think before dawn. So dedicated.”   
She shook her head in affectionate exasperation and Sascha was reminded of the man in the white jacket with the silver Porsche. It was probably Ryoko’s boyfriend.   
  
They departed in the parking lot, Ryoko uttering several more “thank yous” and Sascha entered her car with a smile on her face.

 

 

Later that afternoon, Gackt was in his apartment, having run some errands. He was plopped on his sofa, smoking his fourth cigarette in a row, feeling restless. His cellphone rang from his jacket pocket, the garment discarded on the backrest of his leather sofa:  
  
“Yes?”  
“Gaku, you will not believe who I met this morning!”   
Ryoko’s excited voice greeted him and despite himself, he smiled:  
“Who was it?”   
“A famous singer I love very much, I couldn’t believe she lives in my building, in the penthouse! Her name is Sascha!”  
  
Gackt froze, not noticing the ash from his cigarette fell beside the ashtray, on the table.   
Sascha LIVED in Ryoko’s building? Why was the world the size of a shoebox when it came to that woman?! Why couldn’t she just stay in Germany?

“I don’t know her.” He mumbled in what must have been the worst lie ever, but Ryoko was too excited to register the awkwardness in his voice:  
“And that’s not all! She was SO nice and she gave me two backstage passes for her upcoming concert! You’ll go with me, won’t you? You have to, please!”  
  
This was NOT happening. Not like this. This was the worst possible thing to happen.   
  
“I have a TV appearance that night.”  He mumbled, his own voice ringing strangely, like that of a stranger. Ryoko made a short pause:  
“But I haven’t even told you about the date of the concert.”   
DAMN IT! Damn him and his stupid big mouth. How does he get out of this pickle? He could NOT see Sascha again, especially not with Ryoko on his arm! Why the fuck did she even give backstage passes to a girl she’d just met? Who even does that?!   
“I apologize, I thought you had, sorry. So when is it?”   
“This Friday. I remember you told me you had nothing planned when I asked you the day before yesterday.”  
  
She was right. She asked him about this Friday casually, not mentioning any concert at the time. It was like she set a trap for him. Before he could think, he spoke in the best velvety voice he could muster:  
“But I thought Friday was a day for us alone, you, me, a hot tub, massage oil…”   
  
He let her paint the rest of the picture. Unfortunately, he wasn’t in luck:  
“Gaku, please! There will still be time for all that after the concert! I’ve wanted to see her perform for over a year and now she’s right here in Tokyo and I even have backstage passes! And I want to go with you, baby. It will be fun, come on!”   
  
There simply was NO way he could say no to that without coming off as an asshole. For a brief moment, he thought about breaking a leg so he wouldn’t have to go. Idiotic. He still entertained the thought.

He agreed to go, hoping against hope that something will happen to make this all go away.  


* * *

  
  
Sascha was in her dressing room that Friday, eating strawberries while doing her makeup. The hair stylist already left, having given her an impressive faux hawk with purple extensions and she was now matching that vibe with the makeup she felt wouldn’t be out of place in a Mad Max movie. She was halfway in costume already, still having to don her jewelry and put her boots on when her bodyguard informed her that a couple with backstage passes has arrived.   
  
She smiled at the serious bodyguard and told him to let them in.   
Ryoko entered the dressing room, a huge smile on her face, carrying a bouquet of flowers:  
  
“Thank you for having us, Sascha, we are so…” Halfway through her sentence, she turned around to call her friend over. Sascha accepted the flowers, looking around for a vase when she was met with the face she thought she would never see again.   
Her heart felt like it spilled acid into her stomach and her knees were suddenly wobbly; her brain half-registering his pupils widening before she caught Ryoko entwining her fingers with his.   
Time seemed to have slowed down as Sascha and Gackt locked eyes before she mustered all the mental fortitude she had, half-aware her stare was obvious and hoping Ryoko knows nothing:  
  
“I wasn’t aware this was a meet and greet for me, Ryoko!”   
  
She forced herself to look at the other woman and Ryoko started laughing:   
  
“Oh right, I always forget. For me…” She wrapped both arms around Gackt’s stiff one and purred affectionately: “He’s just my Gaku.”   
  
“Glad I spent 10 years working my ass off to be just Gaku.” He grumbled bitterly. This was not his deadpan humor, he was irritated.   
Sascha felt uncomfortable. It was obvious Gackt was in a horrible mood. She was still trying to force her heart to a normal pace. Why was he here, with his girlfriend? Did the universe hate her that much?   
He didn’t seem to want to be here any more than she did, in this situation.   
Yet, he was so beautiful her fingertips ached to touch his face.   
  
She was grateful for the flowers in her arms:  
“Uhm, would you guys mind if I just went to find a vase for these real quick? Make yourselves comfortable, I’ll be right back!”   
  
A brief respite from this situation would help her clear her mind.   
  


* * *

  
  
She was even more beautiful than he remembered her. Long hair looked great on her. Her eyes were more vibrant and her voice was gentler. She didn’t speak with as heavy an accent as before, either.

He stiffened all his muscles, fearing his hands would reach out and touch her if he didn’t. Ryoko clung to him and he wanted to either run away or run away and take Sascha with him.   
  
It was like he had seen her last time in a previous life. And also like she never left.   
All the feelings he thought to have buried, to have conquered by now were now back full force just like the day he saw her last, two years ago. Will he ever be free of that strange woman?

Sascha soon came back, a huge smile on her face that Gackt knew was a rehearsed, celebrity one. It didn’t reach her eyes and he caught them fleeting to catch glimpses of the way Ryoko held his hand as she talked to Sascha, blissfully unaware of this strange situation.  
  
The entire conversation was a blur to Gackt. He almost dissociated, committing every detail of Sascha to memory to shuffle it in the deck of memories he already had of her. Which were so few, he thought bitterly. Yet that was all he would get.   
The concert was even better than the VT one he attended two years ago with Miyavi. He really tried to focus on the songs but he couldn’t. He was just faintly hearing how her technique improved, seeing how she moved, eyeing her fingers on her guitar. She was still using the old Telecaster, he noted. If anything, she was committed to that guitar. He wanted her to be committed to him.   
  
And he felt so guilty. So guilty that he forgot Ryoko was there until she embraced him. So guilty that he was deceiving this lovely woman who loved him. Taking a deep breath, he decided to finally tell her that night.   


* * *

  
  
Sascha finally crashed on her bed several hours later. Her hair was down again and her face was bare, her skin still pink from the scalding shower she had just taken. She wiggled her toes, her feet aching as the breeze from the open window caressed her bare legs. Gackt’s face was still lingering in front of her closed eyelids and she grunted, hoping she could still escape it through sleep that night.  
She contemplated making herself a smoothie before bed when she heard a knock on her door. Raising a curious eyebrow, she quickly grabbed a robe to put on her, aside from panties, naked body and went to open the door.   
  
“I hope you’re happy.”   
Gackt’s sullen face bore traces of a lot of alcohol and her eyes widened as he pushed past her into her apartment:  
“I hope you’re happy because you screwed me over for the second time.”   
His voice was trembling with equal parts anger and sadness and Sascha stuttered but he cut her off:  
“I thought I had forgotten about you. But, like karma, you just had to find me again and make me fucking miserable!”   
  
Sascha opened her mouth to argue but the look in his eyes dissuaded her as both of them made a step closer to each other subconsciously:  
“I was miserable too, Gackt.”   
  
This was the first time she had used his name and something in his eyes shifted:  
“Say my name again.”   
“Gackt, wait…”  
  
His lips came crashing down on hers, swallowing anything she wanted to string together. He tasted like whiskey and menthol as he devoured her mouth, both of their hands entwining in each other’s hair like this kiss was the last thing they could do before they both perished and as their tongues danced together in a familiar, yet overwhelmingly violent way, he pushed her against the wall, breathing heavily as he pulled his face away and locked eyes with hers, his artificially steely blue ones giving his gaze an almost threatening sting to it:  
  
“Why have I missed you?”   
“I missed you too.” She spoke before being able to think, like all the alcohol he had consumed was suddenly in her veins, stopping her from asking how he even found her here.   
He moved in for another desperate kiss but she turned her cheek, hearing his raspy hiss of frustration:  
“Why are you here, Ryoko is…”  
“I told her. I told her I didn’t love her. Why don’t I love her? I should have. But it seems I still haven’t gotten enough heartbreak from you.” He chuckled self-deprecatory.   
  
Her heart was threatening to choke her as he supported her weight in case her wobbly knees gave in.

“Gackt, I’m sorry.”   
  
She felt tears welling in her eyes as his lips parted slightly and the corners of his eyes softened:  
“Why?” He placed a hopeful hand on her cheek as if to soothe her.   
“For everything. For pushing you away. I was so terrified…” She took a deep breath, hoping that would build a dam for all the tears she wanted to shed.  
“I was terrified too.” He said simply, his body still snug against her, his warmth contrasting the cold wall behind her as she felt his own frantic heartbeat. His voice lowering to a calm murmur, he continued:  
“I felt powerless. I fell for you so hard and then… I couldn’t help you. I wanted you so much but I didn’t know what to do. I shouldn’t have left that day.”   
“I don’t blame you.” Sascha whispered “I didn’t want to burden you with my shit. I couldn’t be selfish and keep you only to watch everything burn later on when I lose you. I didn’t even realize how much I didn’t want to lose you until you left.”   
  
Silence. Their eyes locked, they both took a few breaths, as if what they both have said had been exhausting. It lingered before being seeped into both of them, their gazes searching, begging the other to stay this time. Gackt started chuckling first and Sascha followed, neither of them fully realizing why they’re laughing but it was the laughter of relief:  
  
“Guess we’re both idiots, aren’t we?” Gackt managed and Sascha nodded:  
“I guess we are.”   
“I’m drunk, so I will count that as an excuse tonight.”   
“What’s my excuse?” She almost beamed; the playful banter with him something she didn’t realize she missed so much until now.

“You’re in love.”   
He said matter-of-factly, his hands tightening their hold on her hips and she gasped, his face inches from hers, his breath caressing her lips and she nodded again:  
“Got me.”   
  
This time, he kissed her gently, cupping her face and pouring everything he didn’t say into that kiss. His leg shot between hers as her knees buckled as he smiled into the kiss and untied the sash on her robe, pushing it apart and revealing her heaving chest as the fabric fell to her sides and he buried his face between her small breasts, inhaling a lungful of her scent:  
  
“You smell so fucking good.” He murmured, his hands pulling her closer possessively as his tongue drew abstract shapes on her skin; as if he was hungry for her and she placed a kiss on his crown, lingering there for a few moments, holding him close like he would run away if she let him:  
“So do you. You smell like excitement.” She chuckled breathily, feeling herself getting drunk off the scent of his hair.   
  
As he claimed her lips again in another passionate storm, she trembled in his hold, feeling her entire body melt into him and the longer they kissed, the more certain she was that she will not and cannot let him go this time. She felt like a long, arduous journey was finally over and he was the destination, his arms strong around her, his lips drinking from hers like he wanted to imprint the feeling of him in every fiber of her being. She had never been kissed like that before, not even he kissed her that way before.   
  
He finally pulled apart with a thirsty breath from her, leaning his forehead against hers:  
“From now on, I want you to look at me.”   
“Mmmm?” She managed, confusedly and he smiled, a smugly gentle look on his face:  
“You always hid your face from me before. Just before you cum.”   
  
She never realized that before. A sharp inhale pierced her chest before she frowned guiltily and tried to explain, even though she didn’t know what to say. Was it her grief? Did she feel unable to look at him because she never felt like it was just sex and that made her feel like she was betraying the memory of Andreas that she thought she would never be free of? Gackt’s lips grazed her forehead:

“Don’t do that anymore. I want to see you.” Noticing her eyes were welling up with tears, he added humorously, allowing a smile to accompany the joke this time:  
“It’s my donut, you could say.”   
She chuckled despite herself, feeling a traitorously happy thump in her chest trump the tears that threatened to spill. His donut. Made him happy. She nodded and wrapped her arms around his neck, standing on her tiptoes to place a kiss on his forehead:  
“How do you make me smile even when I think I can’t?”   
“Godlike charisma.” He pulled her off the wall, picking her up in his arms, her legs wrapping around his waist as he carried her to the bedroom.   
“And also probably because that’s what I want to do to you the most.”   
  
Their eyes locked and she felt her cheeks ache with a grin, one he returned full-force.   
  
He placed her on her king-sized bed and immediately pinned her under him to give her more of those intoxicating kisses, like every kiss he’d ever wanted to give her had to be handed over at that moment to make up for the lost time. He growled as she pulled apart to take his jacket and T-shirt off with trembling fingers, her nails running down his torso, making him shudder into her touch and gasp with lust:  
  
“Gods how I missed that.” He whispered, hissing at the pleasant pain as her nails ran over his sculpted abs to his belt. She unbuckled it and he impatiently did away with the rest of his clothing, his hair clinging to his eyes as he towered over her, his muscles tense as he took in the sight.  
  
Her hair was still damp from the shower and her skin was slightly flushed but too bare for his liking, he wanted to mark it until he ran out of room for his bites and scratches. She had gotten a couple of new tattoos that his fingers ran over before dancing softly over her inner thighs, reveling in how she spread her legs immediately for him:  
  
“Overdressed.” He chuckled, pulling her black panties down and tossing them aside, his eyes locking with her core before his fingertips grazed her slit softly, causing her to arch her back into his touch, biting her lip. She cast him a pleading look, her eyes clouded with desire and her lips red and pout from his unrelenting kisses.   
  
Lowering himself over her, his tongue traced her neck from collarbone to ear, stopping to leave love bites as he cupped her breast, his thumb and index finger rolling her nipple until he felt it rock hard and heard her slightly whiny gasp and those nails on his back again. Just where they should be.   
  
As his body hovered barely a few inches over hers, she could feel his tip graze her wetness and whimpered, her hips arching toward him. She never thought she’d get to feel him again and now all of her pent up desire was released, making her drip for him, the wetness sliding along the center of her until she could feel it between her ass cheeks and on the sheet under her.   
She could feel her pulse in her entire body as she trembled for him, his eyes locking with hers again as the palm of the arm he was elbowed on covered her throat to keep her there, betraying his urgency:  
  
“Don’t look away.” He half-begged, his tip on her entrance as her brows furrowed in a fervent nod. His face inched even closer as he let his husky voice seep deep into her, the few millimeters his tip slipped into her making him almost delirious:  
“Say my name.”   
“Gackt, please…” He cut off her whimper by sliding into her all the way, turning it into a loud moan of pleasure. She was so, so wet and he hissed, the perfect feeling of her fitting him like a snug glove and her enveloping heat making him moan in turn. He never wanted to be apart from her again.   
  
He truly made love to her that night, he realized. That was how that felt like. He never let her hide her face from him as he thrust into her, his rhythm only half erratic as her legs were high around his waist, holding him in an iron grip. He kissed her, each kiss only making him hungrier and as he looked into her eyes while she chanted his name, her lips glistening and her cheeks flushed, his heart felt full, so full his chest felt too small to contain it.   
Her fingers roamed all over him and he basked in her touch as he stilled, buried to the hilt inside her warm pussy, throbbing as she gently traced the contours of his face, only to rake her nails down his arms and make him gasp. She clenched him tightly, her impossibly tight walls coaxing a groan from him as he cupped her cheek before flipping them both over, her hair cascading to the sides of her face.  
  
He almost whimpered as she started moving, her lips marking his neck this time as her hips built a languid, knowing pace, her wall hitting his sweet spot, the spot that made him arch his hips and bury his fingertips into the soft skin of her butt cheeks. She rode him so well, his eyes rolled to the back of his head as he reveled in each of her movements, wishing she never stopped as he felt a pull deep in his scrotum and held her hips tightly to still her, her knowing snicker recognizing the tell-tale throb and swell of his cock as he was approaching orgasm as he locked his hungry eyes with her own:  
  
“Not yet.” He whispered breathily as he raised his body, pulling them both in a sitting position, her legs wrapping around him again as she moaned at his hands manipulating her hips to meet his own thrusts before he slid them both up to cup her face and drink from her gaze as her voice became higher and her nails buried in his shoulders harder the closer to her own orgasm she got. Gods, she was beautiful, that hair flowing with his thrusts, her long, pretty fingers desperately entwined in his hair. He would never be able to stop caring for this woman anymore.   
He was getting drunk off her voice, her lewd moans and hungry gasps making the realization sink in irrevocably. He was a slave to everything she was and it was beautiful.   
  
Her movements fiercer and more urgent, she hardly blinked as she looked at him, moaning his name almost unintelligibly and it made Gackt’s entire body burn with an overwhelming flame, his heart in his throat as he again felt his entire cock tighten impossibly just as her walls gripped him harder than ever before and with a whimper bordering on a scream, she started spasming around his shaft wildly, her eyes wet and pupils dilated, never leaving his gaze as her tight pussy milked him and he had no more strength to resist as he followed her into ecstasy, balls deep in her, his load feeling endless as his fingers bruised her skin in a desperate hold and his mouth babbled tumbled syllables as he felt like the ribbons of his seed were binds entangling them both in an unbreakable bond.   
  
He was right earlier. He never had any idea what love felt like. He never felt this before.  
This incredible wash of exhilaration and desperation as his entire soul burst into her, this terror and ecstatic happiness as her soul burst just as strong and this haze that left his mind empty and hyper-aware at the same time. Time seemed to have stopped and everything but she ceased to exist at that moment as he felt like he was beyond insane, like there was a threshold he just crossed that he never realized was there in the first place.   
  
She held his gaze long after, their sweaty foreheads connected as they both trembled, spent and sensitive and she finally smiled. That pure smile he never wanted to hide from again:  
“You’re beautiful, you know?” She whispered to him in Japanese and his heaving breaths gave way to a chuckle as he pulled her in for another kiss, this one tender and soft, his tongue writing lyrics in her mouth, his trembling fingers stamping melodies on her skin as her body gave in and melted into him in a powerlessly limp embrace, her heartbeat in sync with his own.   
Pulling apart reluctantly, he whispered back in Japanese, his thumb grazing her hot cheek:  
“You’re more beautiful.”   
Another one of those smiles. She would be the death of him. He didn’t care. If this was how he died, it was bliss.   
  
  
  
They took a hot shower together, their starved bodies connecting again under the droplets and as they finally emerged from the bathroom, wet and shivering with sensory overload and exhaustion, he noticed it would soon be dawn.   
Reading his mind, she shuffled through her closet, finding a larger robe in baby blue and handing it to him before reaching for the one he discarded earlier and putting it on:  
  
“I’ll go make coffee. The view from my balcony is better than from the parking lot.”   
They both chuckled, Gackt scratching the back of his neck. Did she see him that day?   
  
They settled on the balcony, he pulled her into his lap as they watched the sunrise, their fingers entwined as pleasant silence ruled the moment.  
The fluffy clouds of the night cleared just like the ones over their hearts and the birth of the new day painted a burning promise.   
He felt he could spend every morning with her like this.

She felt like the sunrise finally made sense. She will never have the sunsets back. But sunsets were the endings. Sunrises were beginnings.   
She had made the trade willingly. She traded all the endings she’d ever had for this one new start and just as the rays of the morning sun washed over her face along with the fresh June breeze, she smiled.   
There it was. Liberation. Her heart felt whole again.   
  
He hid his face in the crook of her neck and she shifted instinctively to shield him, remembering with a giggle how he told her his eyes were sensitive to bright light just after they’d met. His eyes must also sting from those contacts. Yet, he was here with her, silent, his warmth enveloping her like a blanket and it made her heart swell anew with the love she never thought she’d feel again:  
  
“You don’t like the sunrises, do you, pretty boy?”  
She teased and Gackt chuckled, nipping at her neck playfully:  
“I thought I didn’t. You have this annoying habit of proving me wrong at every turn.”   
“So do you. But, please don’t stop doing it. I have never been happier to be wrong before.”   
“Me neither.”   



End file.
